Somewhere In Between
by Liam Roy
Summary: After Ifurita rescues El Hazard from the Eye of God, before Makoto returns to Earth to bring her back, this is the story of what happened... Finally, real new content! Darn you Dooky, now I have to work harder...
1. Book 1: What is real

::Prologue::  
  


There were a great many arguments against what John had just done, but there were many in favor of it as well. He looked down at the set of scratched and worn keys that rested in his palm, then ran his eyes over the lines of his new purchase.  
A green, rusted, dented, scratched, beat-up old 1967 Mustang fastback sat at the curb in front of his parent's house. It smelled of old motor oil and musty clothes left too long in the back seat, and the trunk hatch sat slightly off kilter, no doubt the legacy of some past antics which the previous owner had engaged in. At best it was unreliable, at worst it didn't even run, but John's private fascination with speed had grown with the roar of the 289 cubic-inch V8 as he'd driven it home at unsafe speeds.  
_Now this is a car that a man can sink some money into,_ he thought to himself, and the minor consideration of where this money was to come from bothered him not one bit. He kicked the tire poetically and practically danced up over the curb and across the lawn on his way to garage to grab a socket set. The afternoon was young yet, and he had a few minor repairs to make before he took it to show off at one of the endless parties his friends had planned for the weekend.  
At the garage door John stopped and turned around again. It was a wreck, but it was _his_ wreck, and he made a mental check mark by the second item on his list of things to do before he got too old to do them. He admired the car for a few more seconds, then started whistling as he went to gather up the tools.  
  


::Disclaimers & Such::  


  
I must point out that all of the characters as they appear, with the exception of John, Cerin, and anyone else I happen to come up with, as well as the name El Hazard are the property of AIC International and Pioneer Inc. For goodness sakes, you know I'm just doing this for fun, right boys?  
  
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events should greatly worry you, as they take place in an entirely different dimension. This work is the intellectual property of Precious R. Roy, a.k.a. Liam Roy, and any attempt to copy any part of this story will be detected, and the Stormtroopers will be sent to your door.  
  
For the sake of editorial ease, as well as reader sanity, while writing this I simply assume that in the land of El Hazard every human speaks the same basic language. There may be regional dialects, slang, and so forth, but it's just much easier when all your characters can understand each other.  
  
And in case you were wondering, yes, my new character John is from America. So far as I can tell, and please tell me if I'm wrong on this, he's the only American that anyone has attempted to introduce to the world of El Hazard. But, seeing as I'm one of them myself, I figured it best to stick with what I knew.  
  
For referential purposes, this tale takes place about three years after the events in The Alternative World.   
  
And now, the story!  


  
:Book One:  
::Chapter One::  
  


Well, we made it. Are you ready?  
Makoto looked at Qawoor, and while the uncertainty on her face was easy enough to read, her determination was even more evident. She turned to look over her shoulder at Dr. Stalubaugh and Londs, who stood at the hatch that they had used to enter the Eye. The airship floated behind them, moored by no less than four guidelines, which Londs insisted were merely for their own safety.  
Now that the moment had arrived, however, all the doubts and fears that Makoto had not allowed himself to feel when he first came up with this plan rushed to the surface of his consciousness, and he felt the sweat building on his brow.  
I'm ready, Makoto, Qawoor replied in an unsteady voice, and they turned to walk down the corridor into the heart of the Eye of God. It was difficult, if no longer impossible, for Qawoor to keep from clinging to Makoto as the light panels in the floor turned themselves on and off when he walked over them. While they had both spent some time studying the internal schematics of the Eye, it was still unsettling to actually be there.  
As he walked his mind raced between near-frantic anticipation and the dim memory of other, equally promising attempts. If it worked, his plan had the potential to bring Ifurita back to him, and return his friends to their proper world. He could still recall the day, now only two months in the past, that he had rushed into Dr. Stalubaugh's laboratory, eyes blazing and heart pounding. He smiled to himself as his photographic memory replayed the event for him while he and Qawoor made their way into the bowels of the Eye.  
  


****  


  
Doctor, Doctor Stalubaugh! Please, I need your help!  
The good doctor had been in his usual studying posture, seated at the table in the palace library. He had been writing onto a scroll, attempting to translate some very old runes found at an excavation site in the southern regions of the land of Caldan, when Makoto had burst in, and his sudden exclamation in the normally quiet library startled the doctor so badly that the ink from his quill had splattered the page, making a mess of his past hours' work.  
screamed the doctor. And then, when he realized what had happened to the scroll, Oh, drat! Now I shall have to retrieve the original and copy it all over again. He fixed Makoto with a deadly stare. You had better learn to keep your voice down around here, young boy. You're not the only one here who is trying to uncover the great secrets of this library. So please, have care!  
Makoto came to a stop in front of his desk, panting heavily, and said, I'm sorry, doctor, you're right. But I think I've finally figured out how we can activate the dimensional matrix in the Eye without triggering the automatic destruct overrides!  
Dr. Stalubaugh's eyes lit up with the same interest as Makotos', and he leapt from behind the desk with an ease that would have surprised those who did not know him. Makoto's youthful enthusiasm for all things science had long since given the doctor a second lease on life, and he almost ran up to Makoto as he exclaimed, But that's wonderful! I knew someday you would find the clues to lead you to your lost Ifurita. Tell me, what have you discovered?  
Well, I'm not 100% sure, not yet, but... Makoto allowed the teaser to hang in front of Dr. Stalubaugh, and while his posture was nonchalant, the excited glint in his eye gave him away totally.  
Go on, go on! prodded the doctor.  
You know about the legend of the Scales in the Southern Seas, right? asked Makoto.  
Of course I do! I am Dr. Stalubaugh, highest advisor to her majesty Princess Rune! It is my holy duty to know all of the ancient legends.  
Oh right, I forgot, Makoto said sarcastically under his breath. Sometimes the doctor's enthusiasm made him revert to old habits. he continued, there's a passage in the eighth book, a poem written by the scholar Enrilay, that tells of one of the ancient Great Priests of the Desert. Makoto paused at this, and Dr. Stalubaugh nodded for him to continue.  
Of course, said the doctor as he motioned for Makoto to lead him to his quarters on the royal grounds. Among other things, the isolation provided by Makoto's hut tended to protect the rest of the palace from the frequently destructive side effects of his research, and was also the one place where he and the doctor could speak in absolute privacy.  
Makoto continued, paying only slight attention to the footpaths. Well, this particular priest's name was Karali Wren, and according to legend he was wandering the southern cliffs on a spiritual quest when...  
Master Makoto! came a sqeaky-high voice behind them, Oh, Dr. Stalubaugh, how are you?  
Fine, fine Alielle, replied the doctor to the short, energetic girl who had just run up in front of him. And how are you today?  
Oh, just great, doctor! she smiled at him, then turned her attention to Makoto. Master, the Lady Fatora wishes to speak with you at her earliest convenience. She said it in a perfectly respectful tone, but the look on Makoto's face was an old one. He had noticed that Alielle had said instead of which made Fatora's a formal royal command. Of course, as a special guest of the royal family Makoto was always free to decline any invitation, but he had experienced Fatora's legendary temper firsthand when she was crossed, and had no desire to repeat the experience.  
Oh, is that right? Makoto said in a tone of resignation. He looked longingly in the direction of his hut, while Dr. Stalubaugh stood silent. he said after a pause, I guess I don't really have a choice. I'm sorry, doctor, I'll come and see you as soon as I'm done.  
Dr. Stalubaugh nodded gravely. To defy the Princess Fatora carries serious penalty, if not officially then realistically. I shall study the ancient texts in the meantime and attempt to learn more about this Karali Wren whom you spoke of. Good day.  
As he said that he turned away and walked back to the laboratory, his earlier energy quelled, and Alielle turned in the opposite direction and walked off pointedly, an obvious invitation for Makoto to follow. She didn't speak until they got there.  
  
Fatora sat on the floor of her chambers and toyed with the tiny stuffed ear mouse gingerly, as though she expected it at any moment to come alive. The mouse had been a gift from her sister Rune Venus to her new protector/companion, Mahl, and it was designed to move around on it's own if it was set on a level surface.  
Many things had changed for Fatora over these past years, and as she had slowly grown to realize that Shayla and Nanami would forever be out of reach, she had also come to realize a fundamental truth about herself, and she closed her eyes tight while the memory of it played through her again.  
She had a soul.  
That realization had come, as it does for many, at the worst possible time. As a formidable member of the royal house of Roshtaria, the greatest family of rulers ever to protect the lands of El Hazard, she had always more or less assumed that she had one. But searching it out was what monks and priestesses were for, and so she had let that rest and gone on with her life in the way she thought she always would.  
It had been her birthday, she knew, that did it. At 20, Fatora was no longer the freewheeling teenager that her personality had fit so well. While her undying love for Alielle remained strong, she had of late been brooding over her future. Another sixty years at the right hand of her sister had never seemed so unappealing, and while the kingdom had celebrated her birth, that night Fatora had snuck out of the palace and trekked across the lands that her family had come to rule by long tradition.  
Playing the part of a beggar, she had at first little success at living by her own wits. Occasional outbursts of royal pride had led the populations of the towns she visited to regard her as an eccentric, at best, and a nutcase at worst. No royal princess had journeyed beyond the walls of Floristica without their guard since the Royal Palace had been established, and the villagers had regarded her as they might have a child who claimed to have purchased x-ray glasses from the nice wizard at market.  
She didn't know exactly what she was searching for when she started her journey, all she knew was that in order to continue to be herself, she had to figure out just exactly what that meant.  
And all the while, Alielle had led a tireless town-by-town search for her beloved, resting little and always running ahead of the Guard attachment that would retrieve the wayward Fatora.  
For fully three months they searched, before finding Fatora, much to everyone's complete lack of surprise, at the Holy Hot Springs of Arliman. The reunion between the two riven lovers was the stuff of legend, and everyone who witnessed it still claim that they have never seen a more pure display of raw passion and love.  
But now that she was back, Fatora wondered constantly what would become of her now. She had always been _independent_, but never before had she known who she truly was with such clarity. Those three months had altered her outlook on not only her own life, but the lives of the common subjects she ruled, permanently. To the rest of the world, she was the same old Fatora, but around the palace she had grown quiet and withdrawn, which explained Makoto's current apprehension. Fatora rarely summoned someone to complement them.  
My love? Alielle crooned softly to her, and Fatora opened her eyes again with a start.  
Oh, Alielle, I didn't expect you back so soon, she lied. She stood up off the ground, pausing to put the toy mouse away for Mahl when he returned from his daily romp with Ura, and cleared her throat.  
Makoto, I summoned you here for a very special reason, she said with every ounce of royal majesty she could muster. She looked straight into his eyes, noted his confusion and apprehension, and the next words she said were almost as great a shock to him as they were to herself.  
I wanted to say, I'm sorry.  
It took Makoto all of ten seconds to get his jaw back in position, and when he spoke it was with amazement. You're _what?_  
I'm sorry, replied Fatora in the same serious tone, and stood in front of him, waiting for his response.  
But, for what? asked Makoto, I mean, I had always figured that if there was anyone you should apologize to, it was Shayla and Nanami.  
At this Fatora blushed slightly, but pressed on. Well, I guess you're right, but I thought I should try it out on you first. You know, to kind of get a feel for their reaction. Because you see, Makoto, you need to know how much you all mean to me.  
Makoto nodded for her to go on, still in shock but no longer totally off balance.  
When I was growing up as a young princess, I always felt like I was living in Rune's shadow, always in the back of the procession, always the last to be consulted. But then Alielle came into my life, and she showed me what it was like to be myself. She looked to Alielle, met her eyes, and saw her unequivocal approval of what she was doing.  
And then, you earthlings showed up, and for the first time there were others in the palace that I could share my life with, albeit in a, well, different fashion than I'm sure any of you expected.  
Makoto nodded again. Yeah, I can certainly say that I had never met anyone else quite like you before on my world. Although I did hear some rumors once about this kid in the baseball club...  
snapped Fatora, we're talking about me here!  
Makoto flushed slightly, Oh yeah, sorry.  
Fatora fixed him with a deadly stare, and Makoto's embarrassment deepened as he sputtered out, Please continue, your royal highness.  
Fatora made a hrumph sound and crossed her arms, and for a second Makoto feared that she would fly into one of her famous tantrums, but the explosion never came. Instead, she smiled at him, and continued as though the interruption had never happened.  
Well, anyways, like I was saying, I was so thrilled that all of you were here that I wanted to, well, show off what I had become. I guess I went a little overboard in chasing around the girls. Makoto looked puzzled, but before he could speak she continued, Oh don't get me wrong. I don't plan to change _that_ part anytime soon, but for now let's say I'm just considering my options. The grin on her face told Makoto that whatever else had happened to her, Fatora was still fundamentally the same fiendish plotter that he had come to know and fear.  
But I know that the way I went about it was wrong, and if anything I've done has caused you problems, well, that's what I'm sorry for. She had obviously finished with her speech, and Makoto closed his eyes to consider his next words carefully.  
he began, I've gotta say that I never expected anything like this from you.  
Fatora flashed him a look as cold as space, and Makoto hurried to finish his sentence before she could turn that look into a tirade.  
But it's just so incredibly kind and generous of you to say so, and I guess, I should say, apology accepted, he finished hurriedly, and stood up straight and looked at her.  
She smiled at him again, and while it no longer seemed totally awkward, it still had a long way to go to look natural.  
Thank you, she said simply, and looked at Alielle again. Then Alielle turned to Makoto and said, thanks so much for coming, Master. You can go back to your lab now, and smiled pleasantly.  
Makoto bowed slightly to them both, and turned to walk out of Fatora's chambers, when Fatora spoke up again suddenly.  
Oh, and Makoto, she said, you do know that they're in love with you. They have been for some time. Shayla and Nanami. And Qawoor.  
He stopped dead in his tracks, and looked down at his feet. He sighed, as though some strange weight had suddenly been placed upon his shoulders, a weight he knew quite well.  
Yeah, I guess I have known all along. It's just that every time I think I've worked out how I want to tell them, tell them just how much Ifurita means to me, I get all confused and mess it up.  
Fatora's smile was more wistful this time, with a hint of sadness at it's edges. Well, all I can tell you is that they deserve to know. They deserve to know that you really do love someone else.  
Alielle chimed in, I know you can do it, Master. You just need to meet with each one of them, away from the others and on their own terms. You can show them that you still care about their feelings.  
Makoto looked back at them. I know it sounds easy, but I've never had to break one girl's heart, much less three. But thank you anyway.  
He walked out of the room in silence.  
  


****  


  
_Funny how the mind wanders,_ Makoto thought uneasily to himself. The day of that discovery had been important in more ways than one. _Has it really been only two months?_  
Makoto's thoughts were interrupted when he and Qawoor reached the central control room. It wasn't quite as large as the basement where they'd first found the Trigger of Destruction, but it was far more complex.  
In the center was the obvious control matrix, a mirror-smooth pillar of steel, with rune-like messages blinking across it, as though they were reflected from the inside onto it's surface. The pillar was surrounded by a ring three feet off the ground, with two touch activated interface pads on opposite sides.  
All around the edge of the room were banks of monitors, switches, dials, and various other readouts, and it was easily a hundred feet from the entrance just to the center pillar, and at least 30 feet to the apex of the domed ceiling.  
Are you sure you know what to do? Qawoor asked. It wasn't the first time she had asked him this, but he had always assured her that he and Dr. Stalubaugh had worked it out to perfection. Now that they were actually here, however, Makoto's uneasiness showed.  
He spoke sternly to the butterflies mating in his belly, then he nodded to himself and walked towards the pillar. Qawoor followed reluctanly a few steps behind.  
  
I don't know, Afura. You sure this is really my color? Shayla turned around in front of the mirror with the fire orange and red dress held up to her breast. I don't think it fits my personality.  
Afura sighed patiently, and tried not to sound like a schoolteacher addressing a particularly dull student. Oh, what are you talking about? Every other outfit that you own is in the same set of colors. There's nothing else on this rack that's more you.  
Shayla spun around and balled her fists up. Aw, shut it! I do too own clothes that aren't red. What about that outfit I wore when we blasted the Trigger of Destruction?  
And what, if you recall, happened to it? replied Afura.  
Shayla's cheeks heated, and she turned back around to face the mirror as she clung the dress to her tighter. I burned it, accidentally, she said in a tiny voice.  
And the dress you wore to Miz's wedding?  
I burned that one, too.  
You see? chided Afura, I don't think anything else will survive in your closet.  
Afura herself wore a casual sage green gown, in place of her usual jumpsuit and cape, following their last shopping trip. An unfortunately honest tailor had accidentally remarked that one of the legs on her suit was missing, and while it wasn't the first time that Afura had been furious, it was the first time she had been so embarrassed in public. Following a complete dissertation on the value of individuality and the ways in which the Great Priestesses of Muldoon were not bound to follow normal social trends, Afura had completely replaced her wardrobe.  
The warm-weather dress she wore now had been designed especially for her; there were special panels that ran the length of the dress that would become as hard as wood when she pressed her hands to them, so that her frequent arial acrobatics would not reveal anything accidentally.  
Whether it's conscious or not, she continued, it's been well established that any elemental priestess will eventually begin to take on behavioral aspects of her element. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Shayla.  
Yeah, I know, she replied, I just wish that for once, I could walk around like everyone else and not get stared at like some freak side show. She turned back to the rack and replaced the dress she had held, and picked out a white and purple outfit and began to try it on.  
When Shayla had realized that even after four years of trying (and failing), Makoto wasn't going to give up looking for Ifurita, she began to rethink her career choice. While it was true that there had never been a Priestess of Fire who was quite as powerful as she, it seemed like a small achievement when compared to Miz's happiness. And now that their child was already three years old, and Mr. Fujisawa had accepted a professorship at the Royal Roshtarian History Academy, their lives seemed so _complete_. To Shayla, who had always been independent and lived by her own rules, it was hard to imagine tying her life to someone else's that way.  
She couldn't deny that given the chance, she would have gladly done the same with Makoto if it brought her even a fraction of the contentment that Miz radiated. But for all her attempts, the clumsy propositions and half-whispered compliments, Makoto had seemingly remained oblivious to her affection. How anyone could miss it, Shayla would never understand. But they had remained friends, never getting very close, and for the four years since she had met him Shayla had never once been able to say I love you.  
Well, we don't exactly have all day, so do try to find something that you think you'll be able to hold on to, this time.  
Afura's comment snapped Shayla out of her reverie, and she put back the dress and turned to leave.  
All right, she said, there's still a shop or two here that I want to check out first.  
  
It was 2:30 a.m. and raining when John finally stepped off of the front porch. The party hadn't been a complete success, since they only had one tap for the beer, but he hadn't had a single drop that night. He wasn't about to risk his car at the hands of anyone who'd been drinking, not even himself.  
He looked up into the sky, and let the rain splash on his face for a few minutes before he walked down the flagstone path to the street. The night had given him the perfect chance to show off his new purchase. The Mustang sat underneath a light across the street, shiny and somewhat forlorn looking in the drizzle, which was slowly working it's way into the downpour which was standard issue for a warm summer night in Pittsburgh. It looked great from a distance, but friend after friend had begun to snigger once they got close enough to see all the bits that were missing, like the hubcaps and the emblem on the driver's side.  
He walked up to the door and unlocked it, as he hummed the first few bars of Born to be Wild to himself over and over, and he thought of how good it would feel to sleep in tomorrow morning.  
  
They each went to one of the access pads, and as Makoto touched his hand to them they glowed an eerie green . Qawoor activated hers in the same way.  
Makoto spoke with as much reassurance he could muster, Okay, now you remember how I told you this works? In order to gain control of the dimensional gateway system, we both have to request access at the same time.  
Even though they couldn't see each other around the pillar, Qawoor nodded assent, and they both closed their eyes to concentrate.  
The text on the pillar began to change color, from green to yellow to red, and the messages flashed across it's surface with mounting speed. A surge of electricity cascaded over Makoto and Qawoor's hands, their eyes opened wide with the shock, and then they were inside the system.  
With Ifurita, the disabling of her submission routines had been relatively straightforward. All Makoto had had to do was find a single circuit, and cut it out of the command loop. But this time, he wasn't here to destroy, he was here to _control,_ and the strain this placed on him was far greater.  
In essence, he was the one doing the real work of discovering the root command structure, accessing it, and using it to manipulate the dimensional reactor of the Eye of God. Qawoor was necessary to verify his access, for the ancients who had designed the Eye had determined that only a member of the Royal house could control it, and only a holy priestess could grant access to it. But nobody else knew that they were here this day; only Londs and Dr. Stalubaugh had come to ensure their privacy. If anyone outside the royal family were to learn that the Princesses were not the only ones who could gain access to the Eye, it might inspire another nation to attempt what the Phantom Tribe had in the past.  
It remained true that only the sisters Rune Venus and Fatora could use the Eye as a weapon, but the use of it's other systems, as Makoto had discovered, was not so restricted.  
The strain of trying to control the Eye was making the veins of his neck stand out, and he grunted with the effort, riding the data streams much the way a kayaker might ride Niagara Falls. The sheer amount of information flowing through the system almost sucked him under and into unconsciousness, but then he found what he was looking for; the control pathways for the dimensional reactor.  
He crossed the threshold from raw data to interface, and was confronted with a totally different problem.  
He couldn't make heads or tails of it.  
The connections between all of the systems of the Eye might have been difficult to navigate, but the actual controls were almost worse. Everywhere he looked were graphs, visual representations of mathematics so advanced that the tiniest mistake in their manipulation could destroy entire dimensions. He saw terrible futures loom before him; the probable results of his actions branched out in so many different ways that it soon turned from a latticework into a solid wall of different probabilities.  
There were places where he could manipulate the equations, adjust the power levels, monitor the results, but the limited knowledge he and Dr. Stalubaugh had been working from had never anticipated such complexity.  
And then the command he was looking for was in front of him; a simplified root directory that listed all the possible inputs. It took him only a few minutes to find the ones that he and the doctor had isolated, and a few more to manipulate the reactor itself to bring those commands about. He input the changes that had been so carefully worked out before hand, that he had drilled himself on so that there would be no mistake.  
There! The reactor came online, obediently noted the changes to it's operational parameters that Makoto had input, and then everything else went dark as the massive amounts of power that the reactor required were shunted from all the secondary systems.  
As the information displays in his interface began to dim, Makoto allowed himself a brief flash of hope. All the work, the waiting, the terrible disappointment when his previous attempts had failed, it would all be worth it once that portal opened up and he stepped through it onto the soil of his homeworld.  
  
Take it on the otherside, take it on the otherside...  
John sang to himself as he threaded the streets of Pittsburgh through the driving rain. It was getting harder to see the road, but he'd been on this route countless times before, and he could have driven it with a sheet over his windshield. The dark, brooding clouds and almost ceaseless thunder might have been depressing to some, but for John it was all coming together.  
In a few short weeks he would graduate from high school, and then there would be just three months in which to make as much money as he could. Then it was off to college in California, and nothing but sunny skies and easy living from there on out.  
John turned up the radio a bit and started to bob and weave in his seat in time to the music. The song was getting to that good bit.  
  
Almost immediately Qawoor could sense that something was wrong. All this time she had been following Makoto through the bowels of the Eye of God's data system, ensuring that his presence did not trigger any security mechanisms. And while she could see what he was doing, could see the tremendous amount of information he was sifting though by instinct as much as anything else, she could not directly interfere, not even to communicate with him.  
Which is why it took Makoto completely by surprise.  
Before he even knew it was happening, the complex waveforms and meticulate multi-dimensional equations that had set themselves up in response to his commands began to collapse. It was too late to stop the dimensional reactor from completing it's activation cycle, and with a brilliant flash all of the new data erased itself from being.  
Makoto stared in blank-faced horror. Not two seconds ago the triumph he hadn't dare allow himself to feel had been about to surface, but that flash killed all of his dreams in an instant.  
A few displays remained alive, and from what his numbed mind could make out there were a few parameters that were still correct; he had still managed to find earth, had still managed to contain the gateway so that it would take only a few people and not a civilization. But the rest of the data, the exact location, the exact time of the portal's creation and the strength of the energy flux roaring through it were hopelessly scrambled. Warning signals flashed in front of him, telling him what to correct, but the language of the ancients was still foreign to him, and without the help of the doctor and the Royal Academy's library, Makoto was powerless to translate them quickly enough.  
  
Hm. Now that one actually doesn't look too bad.  
Afura and Shayla had nearly exhausted the shops along the main trading district in Floristica, before Shayla had spotted the outfit hanging on display in front of one of the more expensive trader's tents.  
You think? Shayla asked, then turned again to admire it, yeah, this dress'll be just the thing I need to impress Makoto at Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony.  
Afura sighed again in resignation. Just be careful wherever you're wearing it. Caldan rice-silk is known to be highly flammable.  
At least I picked the right colors, Shayla said in her most sarcastic tone. She turned to the merchant, who had been eyeing her carefully since she'd approached his tent, and handed him a small sack and smiled. That should cover it, my good man.  
The merchant accepted it cautiously, counted the coins for himself, and nodded a thanks to the two priestesses. A small group of young girls that had been following them moved in on the tent as Shayla and Afura walked back towards the center of town. They wanted to see if there were any more priestess dresses for sale.  
  
John was fully aware that he was now driving at very unsafe speeds in this weather. The tortured route to his house through the hills had leveled out a bit, but just as he took the Mustang to full throttle a strange, globular light appeared in front of him as suddenly as if a light bulb had been turned on.  
He knew he couldn't stop in time; there was too little warning and too little space for him to break the car effectively. So John swerved to the side instinctively to avoid it, but the wet roads robbed his tires of traction. He slid towards the light, now totally out of control, and the only thing he could do before he hit it was throw his hands up in front of him, and scream.  
  
Shayla and Afura waited patiently for the huge wagon to cross in front of them, and for a split second the roads were clear. Traffic was light in the capital city today, thanks to the slackening tourist season and busy preparations going on in the Royal grounds for the ceremony to accept Mr. Fujisawa as a High Professor at the Royal Roshtarian Academy.  
As they stepped ahead a strange globe of light appeared in the middle of the clearing, and they had no chance at all to react before a huge, green _something_ came sliding out of it at terrifying speed and smashed into a pottery cart.


	2. Out of focus

::Chapter Two::  


  
For a few seconds the event had totally failed to register. Everyone along that street stared in stone faced silence, unable to believe what their eyes had just seen, and Afura and Shayla stood among them.  
The object was obviously the product of high technology; it's unnaturally black steel body glistened as the sunlight reflected off the moisture on it's surface, and a low-pitched mechanical thumping sound came from one of it's ends. The owner of the pottery cart made a noise too, but it was more of a terrified whimper, as the shiny chrome front bumper had missed chopping his legs off by no more than a few centimeters.  
A few nervous voices in the crowd began to speak up, and Afura shook her self from her momentary astonishment, and began to approach it slowly. Were her eyes deceiving her, or, no! There was someone inside that thing, seated facing out over the tremendous flat front end, and as she moved towards it he made no movement.  
  
Johns face was bone-white as the shock of what had just happened caught up with him. Two seconds ago he had been driving home on a perfectly normal night, and now the sun was shining and there were broken vases arrayed across his hood.  
His head turned almost against his will to look out the drivers side window, and a hundred incredulous faces stared right back. He whipped his head back around, trying to ignore the attractive woman in the sleeveless green dress who was now walking towards him, and his addled brain tried to cope with what was going on in the only way it knew how, by referring to it's vast knowledge of cinema.  
Now what, John asked himself, would Shaft do in this situation? No no, as far as he could remember nothing even remotely like this had happened to Shaft, and his mind sputtered to a halt as he tried to think of something to compare his current situation to.  
_Caddyshack?_ he thought to himself, _no, too silly. Plan Nine from Outer Space? No, too cheesy. Oh, that's it! Army of Darkness, of course! What would Ash do?_  
The woman was now standing directly outside his window and staring at him, which took John completely by surprise. He yelped and tried to jump backwards, and when his foot came up off the clutch pedal the car lurched and died. It was only then that he realized that the radio was still on too, but all he could hear through it was static. So he turned it off and removed the keys from the ignition, and steeled himself for the coming encounter.  
  
Afura had leapt backwards when the thing had jumped suddenly, but it was no longer making that strange drumming noise and was obviously dead. Or turned off, or whatever might apply to it. But as she started to walk foreword again the figure inside of it reached for something, and then a panel on the side of it opened up, and the figure stepped out, and the mixture of terror and utter confusion on his face might have been funny under any other set of circumstances.  
He was obviously human, at least, and stood only a little taller than Afura herself. His short spiky hair was a golden blonde, and his young face couldn't have been more than 19 or 20. His green eyes were sharp, though, and darted around the area with the nervous energy of a caged animal. He wore odd striaght-legged pants and a plain-looking green topshirt, but his clothing was definitely not from any of the lands of Roshtaria. It took Afura a few seconds before she realized that the only thing they did resemble were the clothes Makoto and Mr. Fujisawa had worn when they first appeared in El Hazard, and when she did her jaw dropped and she stared at the stranger in obvious amazement.  
Noticing her attention, the stranger looked at Afura, and his earlier apprehension was replaced with puzzlement. He didn't know why, but her attention seemed to be entirely too focused, as though she knew something about him that he didn't.  
Shayla walked up behind Afura and put a hand on her shoulder. Hey, Afura, what's going on? Why does that guy look like he's from Japan, too?  
The stranger's attention turned suddenly to Shayla, and he said in high-pitched amazement, You, you can speak, I mean, how do you know about Japan? Where is this place? How did I get here? Who are you people!? His gaze moved across the crowd slowly, and then came to rest on Afura's face again.  
Who are you? he asked again in a much sturdier voice, and Afura forced herself to respond.  
I am Afura Mann, High Priestess of Mount Muldoon, advisor to the Royal court. This is Shayla Shayla, also a High Priestess. And just who might you be?  
The stranger replied, Uh, well, my name is John. John Grey, high school senior from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Um, that's not in Japan, by the way.  
Afura considered for a second. He was obviously just as confused as to how he got here as they were, so an invasion or spy of some sort was out of the question. Besides, there were plenty of ways to get into Floristica without making such a big noisy mess.  
And then there was the contraption he had arrived in. It was obviously designed for ground transportation, the four wheels at it's corners said that much. But if that was true then it was one of the most efficient means Afura had ever seen. There was no obvious sail or propulsion mechanism on the outside, and yet it's speed upon exiting the phenomenon had been considerable.  
At that point the city police came running up in response to the disturbance, and as soon as they came into the astonished group of people that had formed a ring around the accident, they pulled up short as it's sheer impossibility registered. They stared for a few seconds, and then the captain noticed Afura and Shayla Shayla standing in front of a strangely dressed man, who seemed to have taken responsibility for what had happened.  
The captain approached them, and said urgently, Great priestesses, what has happened here? We were told there had been an accident involving one of the merchant's carts, but there was never a word about, well, this! He gestured towards the black object, obviously at a loss to explain it.  
Oh, yeah, that's just my car, replied John. I'm really sorry about the pots, but I have no idea what just happened. Can you guys tell me where I am?  
The captain stared back at him, unwilling to believe it. But then he looked back to Afura and Shayla, and they nodded confirmation.  
the captain continued in the most normal voice he could muster, you're in the city of Floristica, capital of the Kingdom of Roshtaria in the land of El Hazard.  
The corner of John's mouth quirked up at that, and to everyone's surprise he began to laugh. It was hard to make out whether he actually found it funny, or if this was the only response his nerve wracked brain could come up with, but then he walked over to the captain and slapped him on the back.  
That's great! he said while he wiped away the tears of his laughter, I've heard of things like this happening before! Sudden disappearances, mysterious new dimensions, beautiful girls at every turn! This is exactly what I needed to happen to me. Ha! Then he turned back to his and opened the door again, and his mind was busy as he sat back down on the seat and rested his feet on the stone street.  
Afura walked up and knelt in front of him, and she said, listen, I know that this must be very confusing to you, but you must believe me when I tell you that this is not the first time such a thing has happened.  
He looked up at her, holding his face in his hands, and he gestured for her to continue.  
You're from a world called earth, right?  
John nodded again dumbly.  
Well, there are others that have come here from earth, as well. They came about four years ago, from a land they called Japan. Only they had the courtesy to appear in the forest outside the city, not in the middle of a crowded marketplace.  
Her tone lightened on the last sentence, and John smiled weakly. There was very little that was actually funny about his situation, but this woman had known that, and was actually trying to cheer him up. There was no way for him to know that she'd actually had a great deal of experience with this kind of thing before, but it wouldn't have mattered to him anyway.  
Thank you, he said simply. He looked up into her eyes, and noticed for the first time that they were a perfect deep amethyst, like nothing he'd ever seen before, and his own eyes grew large as he stared into them. They seemed to confirm something for him, and if he could still not believe what had happened, he at least could trust what she was saying.  
He stood up finally, and spoke with greater assurance. Well, it seems appropriate that I would wreck my paint job the same day it was finished, he remarked, but I suppose we should move what's left of it out of here.  
Afura turned to the captain and said, please, make arrangements for his, um-  
John inserted for her.  
-yes, his car to be stored at the Royal Palace. Shayla Shayla and I will escort him there to meet with Princess Rune and the others, to discuss what will come next.  
Certainly, great priestess, replied the captain, I believe that there is room in the eastern docking bay. But, how exactly are we to get it there?  
  


****  


  
Makoto sat in one of the private study rooms in the Royal Library, and his face was drawn and haggard as he stared at the reams of calculations he and Dr. Stalubaugh had made.  
There had been times in the past when his failure to get back to earth had been acceptable. None of the methods he had tried had really been that certain to work, and actually building his own dimensional transporter? Preposterous.  
And now his failure was complete. He had attempted to control the very systems which had been used, if indirectly, to bring him to this world in the first place, and the worst part was that everything had gone according to plan. Everything had been perfect, except for the result.  
All his pent-up anger and frustration flashed through him in a moment, and with an animal yell he threw the table in front of him in a rage. Papers went flying, books were splayed out, and he tore through the wreckage, ripping to shreds the scrolls that he had believed could send him home. He broke the spines of several volumes, venting his fury, and finally collapsed in the middle of the room. A dark feeling of hopelessness began to descend on him, and he didn't even try to stop it as the memories played themselves over and over again in his mind. Every success, every new insight had ended up the same way, and now that every avenue he could find had been exhausted, he allowed himself to know, not just suspect, that he would never...  
A knock at his door broke his intense brooding, and a cautious voice came through it.  
Makoto-chan? Are you in there, Makoto-chan? Hello?  
He couldn't seem to get up the energy to open the door himself, so he simply said and turned away from the entrance. He didn't want his best friend, his last friend in all the world, to see him at this moment, but avoiding her would only make things worse.  
Nanami opened the door slowly, as the carnage her friend had caused registered. She had known that he was up to something for the past few months, but she had been too busy with her precious restaurant, which had recently expanded into a franchise with branches in four separate kingdoms, to take much notice. Now she chided herself for not making the time earlier to talk to him.  
Gosh, I'll bet even Afura would be impressed with this tornado, she said in a breezy tone. But her attempt to lighten Makoto's mood was wasted, as he glanced over his shoulder and the utter lack of emotion on his face was plain. Nanami winced inwardly, then waded through the wreckage and put an arm around his shoulders.  
she continued, I don't know what you've been working on lately, but it looks like you've spent too much time on it to just throw it all away like this.  
Makoto looked up at her, and Nanami was surprised to see that he had actually been crying. He may have been sensitive, but he was still a guy, and he hated to admit his weaknesses even in front of his friends.  
But you don't understand, Nanami, I did just throw it away. All this work was for nothing.  
What happened? she asked him softly.  
Nanami listened as he recounted the story for her, the midnight skull sessions with the doctor, sifting through ancient literature for clues as to how the Eye of God worked, asking Qawoor to help him and the need for absolute secrecy, and the terrible failure aboard the Eye. And when he finished, he looked at her and said with total sincerity, I'll never see her again. We'll never see home again. You were all counting on me to get us back, and I've failed you.  
The pain in his eyes was too real for Nanami to try and dismiss it with words. It was obvious that Makoto believed it himself, but the only thing she could do now was be here for him, and so she laid his head on her shoulder, and tried not to break down herself as he wept silently into it.  
  


****  


  
The procession certainly looked ridiculous, but under the circumstances it was the best the city police could come up with. John's Mustang was making it's way slowly though the winding roads of the capital city, which had been designed hundreds of years ago for foot traffic and animals only. Every few blocks, it seemed, there was a cart or tent or _something_ in the way, and the procession of police in front of his car seemed to be torn between protecting the populace from this unknown danger, and protecting John from the curious but insistent populace.  
The circle was incomplete behind the car, as John had recommended people stay clear of the tailpipes. The damage to the car had actually been minimal; the paint on the passengers side was a total write-off if it hadn't been before, and the dents would have to be hammered out, but mechanically there was nothing at all wrong with it.  
Afura rode in the front seat, and Shayla draped her arms across the two seats from behind. They both wore an expression of tolerant bemusement as what John had called rock and roll blared from the speakers in the front and rear of the cabin, and he bounced along in his seat as though he were in his own world.  
They made their way through the crowded streets slowly, as obstacle after obstacle was cleared out of the way, and confusion followed them all the way to the palace.  
  


****  


  
For the second time the once quiet study was disturbed, but this time there was no quiet knock. Sir Londs burst through the door and into the small room, and began to speak before he noticed the papers strewn about the room.  
Sir Makoto, I...  
Makoto looked up, his face red and exhausted, and Londs pulled up short. Nanami looked at him too, her own face taut, but this news was too important to wait.  
Good Nanami, I must tell you both of an incredible event! Another traveler from earth has appeared inside the city!  
A fresh wave of horror crossed Makotos' face as the realization slowly sunk in. Now not only had he failed to restore the lives of his friends, he'd inadvertently ruined someone _else's'_ life as well. This knowledge was almost enough to break him, and had Nanami not been there, it might have. But when he looked into his friend's eyes, he didn't see the contempt that he felt he so manifestly deserved. Instead he saw concern, and... love Not romantic love, but the kind of love you only have for a person when you've known and cared about them all your life.  
Sir Londs, Nanami said, thank you for telling us. Are they here yet?  
Londs nodded. Almost, he is approaching the palace now in a strange contraption called a car. He was obviously unsure of what that meant, but he continued. The traveler is being accompanied by Shayla Shayla and Afura Mann, who were in the market when he appeared suddenly. His, car, came flying out of some sort of portal in the middle of the market square and crashed into a merchant's cart.  
Makoto turned to Londs and exclaimed, Oh God, was anyone hurt?  
Londs answered the fear in his eyes with a shake of his head. No, thankfully, nobody was injured. They are due to arrive in the east gallery in an hour, and Princess Rune has requested that everyone be present to greet the traveler.  
Makoto nodded in assent. The diversion to the east gallery made sense; there were five separate storage areas for the fleet of transports that the royal family required, as well as the guard and spy craft that were the property of Royal Security. There was a boat gallery at every corner of the palace grounds, and one underground facility that housed secret or experimental craft.  
Since the s existence would be common knowledge throughout the city by nightfall, the best they could hope to do was to keep it out of the public eye, and the east gallery was on the edge of the grounds that was closest to the outside of the city. And, of course, it could always be moved into the underground facility from there, in the instance that Royal Sec. decided to reverse engineer it for their own purposes.  
In the past, there had been several skirmishes with the other steadings over trading or land rights under the Kingdom's rule, but never had they faced a full-scale war until the Bugrom emerged, and Roshtaria's military forces had proven woefully inadequate to deal with such a large threat. Sir Londs, as chief military advisor, had decided that the Kingdom could never be left so unprepared again, and had formed the Royal Army and Air Corps to ensure their security.  
With the memory of the Bugrom armies crossing their land practically unchallenged still fresh, initial recruitment had been unnecessary as volunteers started pouring in from every provincial district in the land. But since a great army hadn't existed for centuries, there was plenty of historical precedent but no immediate example to work from. In that capacity, the Army and Air Corps were still very new formations, and the study of any technique or weapon that could be added to their still new arsenal had become a top matter for Royal scientists.  
Here, Masamichi Fujisawa had proven to be a literal gold mine of information. Since detailed records of the strategies and weapons used in the last three wars on earth had been a standard part of his history course, he had been able to provide the Royal Army with invaluable assistance in forming their military and training doctrine. This fact was also what had earned him a position of High Professor at the Royal Academy, where he would combine lessons in earth and El Hazard history to help new students understand the historical importance, as well as the devastating costs of waging war.  
Many in the common populace had wondered about the wisdom of raising an army when the Eye of God had proven so devastatingly effective in removing the Bugrom threat. The official line of reasoning was that it was always better to have a backup plan in case the main one failed, and the better the backup, the safer the citizens of all the lands would be.  
But the real reason was far less innocent. There was only one Ifurita, and it had taken her powers to stop the Eye from destroying all of Roshtaria the last time it was used. No one in the Royal court was prepared to risk the kingdom a second time on a weapon which _might_ save them.  
Try as they might, Royal Sec. had been unable to convince the Princess to allow them to disassemble the inside of the Eye. It was deemed too potentially disastrous to be worth the gain, and so the Eye was sealed once again by the three priestesses. This had not prevented them from tinkering with the devices they had discovered on the ground, however, and there were rumored to be several highly secretive projects being developed in that underground .  
The only one who had been allowed access to the Eye on anything like a regular basis was Makoto, and then only under guard. But none of this was in his mind as he prepared himself to meet the person whose life on earth he had just ended.  
Who is he? Makoto asked Londs.  
He claims to be John Grey, from the land of Pennsylvania. He is as you were when you first came here, a student in high school.  
Was he hurt at all?  
Londs began to turn around, an obvious bid for the two to join him, he actually seems to be rather enjoying himself at the moment. But we will speak more when he arrives. Follow me, please.  
  


****  


  
So you see, because the pistons are connected to the shaft that provides wheel movement, the more forceful the explosion, the faster the car can go.  
John was explaining internal combustion to the priestesses as they approached the eastern boat gallery, and while Afura was paying only slight attention, Shayla was absolutely fascinated for reasons she had yet to explain to him.  
And how often do these explosions happen? she asked with total concentration.  
Several each second, John replied, that's what this dial here measures- he pointed to the RPM gauge -in Revolutions Per Minute. That's what tells me when to shift gears; when the RPM's get to a certain point, then you shift to slow the engine back down.  
Shayla replied thoughtfully. And where does the flame come from, again?  
John couldn't help but smile at her inquisitive nature. That bit comes from the spark plugs. There's one for each piston, and when they're switched on by the distributor cap, they create a tiny spark that ignites the gasoline in the chamber, and then the smoke from that explosion gets vented out the back.  
she said again. Can I watch?  
Um, I can show you the engine, but you can't actually see the gasoline burning, no.  
Oh, darn, she said, disappointed.  
Before John could get started again, Afura pointed ahead of them and said, Look, we're approaching the palace grounds. They had come past the last in a series of taller buildings nearing the edge of the city, and were now on top of the hill that was half covered by the sprawling capital's main residential district.  
This was the first clear view of the palace John had had through the crowds of people and police, and his face hung for an instant at it's sheer immensity.  
The main, well, castle was about all he could call it, was easily fifty stories tall, not including the Arabian-style dome at it's top. There were perhaps ten other smaller towers arranged around it in a seemingly random pattern, and the grounds extended out like some kind of fantasy island resort. Everywhere his head turned, he could see immaculate gardens, pools with terribly ornate fountains at their center, and smaller buildings built for housing administrative and housekeeping staff. The Royal Roshtarian Academy which sat to the west of the palace was equally opulent, if not nearly as large, and it's dormitories and teaching halls were spread out over enough space to house _two_ Ivy league colleges from back home.  
They made their way around the outside of the walled off grounds, to the gated entrance to the East Portico. No fewer than twenty guards stood outside of it, and there were watchtowers evenly spaced around the wall at intervals of thirty meters. The towers housed at least five lookouts and archers, and were kept on watch all day, every day.  
The captain at the head of their procession waved to one of the guards, and he stepped foreword and spoke with the captain for a few hurried seconds. The guard looked at the car, and the escort, then noticed that Afura Mann was waiting patiently for him to decide to let them in. He turned around in a hurry and motioned to the rest of the guards, and they stepped aside as the gate ground open to allow them through.  
The captain walked ahead, and motioned for John to follow him, and as the gate closed behind them a crowd of onlookers closed in on it, trying to get a peek over the wall at the stranger who had entered their world to wreck a display cart, only to be invited into the royal palace itself.


	3. Beyond belief

::Chapter Three::  
  


As Jinnai walked out of the rabbit warren of tunnels his troops had dug into the mountain base, he stretched his arms and yawned lazily. He wasn't going anywhere in particular, just wandering his way towards the surface of the world he knew he would soon return to conquer. Sooner, in fact, than his worst enemies had ever feared.  
He passed a soldier or worker here and there, and he returned their prompt salutes with a lazy smile of smug superiority. The rebuilding of the Bugrom empire had progressed at an incredible rate since that first, strange day when he and Diva had fertilized the first batch of eggs to be grown into the worker drones they would need to turn the ancient cavern into their new base of operations. It was hard to describe the sense of ownership he felt he had over this, his new army. The forces he had led into Roshtaria during the first war had been his to command, of course, but they hadn't been _his_ army. They'd belonged to Diva, but this time it was different. This time, they had shared the responsibility for raising the legions of soldiers, scouts, workers, and flyers, and he felt an odd sort of pride at the idea that every single Bugrom that was walking around him today was there only because of him.  
But his present force levels were still far below what he considered optimum. At best, he could carry out raids on the new Roshtarian Army's supply lines, and scout out their dispositions with a fair degree of accuracy. The fact that Roshtaria was building an army of their own didn't concern him unduly, for he remained sublimely confident of his ability to lead his own forces to victory over anything Princess Rune threw at him.  
No, his greatest concern was his archenemy Makoto, and the Eye of God. Their last experience with his tinkering, while amusing, had proven that he was still working on some way of eliminating the Bugrom for good. Whether it was through the Eye or some other method, Makoto was the reason that Jinnai hadn't dared to carry out more than probing raids against their borders. For one, the security of their new home base was dependent upon the fact that no one in Roshtaria even knew where to look for it. This had limited their initial movements severely, but Jinnai was prepared to accept the handicap as long as it meant he could raise his armies in secret.  
Besides, his workers had dug out tunnels that reached the surface miles from their starting point, and their crisscross pattern was guaranteed to send anyone who found them in anything but the right direction. They had already made it more than two hundred miles into the border of Roshtaria, and had penetrated completely several of the other, smaller dependencies. No, when the time came, he was certain to achieve complete surprise. And no matter how great of an army they had managed to raise, it's size would merely give his own troops more targets to practice on as he picked them off from behind their own lines.  
At this thought Jinnai began to giggle evilly. Mizuhara would never suspect it in a million years! His greatest rival come back from the dead to bring final defeat to his very doorstep! And the secrets they were learning from what remained of the Trigger of Destruction were proving very useful, as well. In fact, if he could just wait a bit longer, they might be able to nullify the Eye of God completely, and then their victory would be total.  
He emerged on the top of the desert peak that hid his minions, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud at the thought of seeing the look on Makoto's face when he knelt before his true master.  
  


****  


  
The council gasped audibly, taken aback by the brashness of the statement.  
You cannot possibly be serious, said one member in an old voice, the pale light in the room cloaking his face in shadow. The Bugrom are a repulsive, degenerate race. No one even knows if they can think independently of the hive mind.  
A second spoke up, his voice similarly ragged, An alliance with such beasts would be unthinkable. There is no telling what treachery they may be capable of.  
Nahato stood in the middle of the circle and eyed every one of the council members, and while they did not shrink from his steady gaze, they did not meet it, either. _Old fools,_ he thought to himself, _they don't realize that if we don't do something to get rid of Roshtaria soon, we'll be the Phantom Tribe in fact as well as name._  
What you propose yourselves is no better than treachery. Against our own people, no less.  
His voice was calm and powerful with the status his reputation had earned him after the death of Prince Galus. It was he whom the prince had trusted to lead his people should he die in the final battle for the Eye of God, and it was he who had carefully guided the council down all the right paths since then. But this was the critical moment when he must convince them to do the unthinkable, for without the council's support, he could never hope to gather enough of the Tribe together to make his plans work.  
replied a third member, but it at least offers us a chance of survival. If we surrender to the Roshtarian government, they may grant us...  
screamed Nahato, Never! The Phantom Tribe will never bow to it's enemies in defeat, not after all we've accomplished here! His fury lashed at them like a whip, as he addressed each member in turn.  
You may feel that we've run out of options, but I tell you we haven't! And unlike you, I'm not ready to submit myself to the rule of the House of Venus simply because I'm too short sighted to recognize a good tool when I see one! I for one will not see our people led into oblivion, forced to live forever in exile like sheep before a herdsman!  
As though they had been family rivals from the start, the current council of the Tribe's leadership - the supposed voice of the people - had hated the royal family of Venus with almost as much virulence as Prince Galus had. The members of the council weren't fools, and they knew that Nahato was deliberately playing to their bigotry. But that didn't mean it wasn't working.  
He gathered in his temper, carefully measured out to be effective without being excessive, and sat back down, and his next words were like daggers of ice.  
I am not a coward. Are you?  
The second member grimaced as he recognized the passion with which Nahato had spoken, and he said with great care, Young prince, even if there were some way to save our tribe, surely it would not be through open war?  
That is precisely why it will work. The last thing Princess Rune and her guard expect is for us to fight them out in the open, because their precious Eye of God makes them impossible to defeat. As long as they still control it, they'll always be safe, right?  
He was looking at the second member, but his address was to all seven of them. He waited until they nodded in agreement, then continued, But if they were confident of their ability to control it, why would they be trying to raise an army? If, however, they are indeed beginning to rely on their own military strength to protect them, then this offers us an opportunity like no other to ally ourselves with the might of the Bugrom armies and crush them once and for all.  
He could see the gray and blue-skinned council turning over the options in their minds. Both were unpleasant, but at least one offered a chance for glory and salvation, if only barely. _And_, thought Nahato, _I never said that we wouldn't betray the Bugrom, did I? It's to early to be making plans yet, but the chance will come to put them in their place as well._  
Very well, the first member said at length. We will consider this proposal. But do not make plans as yet. This is a very grave matter, and these are very grave times. There is no room for ill-considered action when our own strength has been weakened such.  
Nahato knew that this was as close to a decision as the council would come for a while, so he simply nodded to each of the members, and left the circle of seven without another word. As he walked out through the maze of chambers that housed the governorship of the Tribe, he knew he would appear before them again soon.  
  


****  


  
Oh, _really?_  
The message had arrived just after lunch, and Jinnai's mind was churning with possibilities. The scouts hadn't gotten close enough to identify exactly what all the fuss was about, but it was clear that something big was going on in the Palace that had nothing to do with his old teacher's stupid ceremony.  
He pondered for half a minute, then turned around and yelled, Hey, Groucho! Get your worthless metal butt out here this instant! We're going on reconnaissance.  
  


****  


  
Mr. and Mrs. Fujisawa stood at one end of the greeting party with their daughter close at hand. Fatora and Alielle were to their right, and Parnass had tagged along beside them. Then stood Londs, Rune, Dr. Stalubaugh, Makoto, Nanami, and Qawoor, and each tried to hide from the others the torrent of emotions that were running through them.  
The cavernous gallery extended 100 meters back from the entrance, and it was easily three times as wide. Arrayed about the inside were all sorts of work lattices, diagnostic tools and repair equipment, and moored in place were four of the _Caravan-_class Royal Cruisers. The _Caravans_ were huge beasts used to lug around the complete royal entourage, and their sails were easily twenty meters on a side.  
The small greeting party waited near the southern end of the gallery's entrance, and watched in silence as the procession made it's way across the landing tarmac to greet them. As the police guard approached, they spread out in a neat two-line formation on either side of the car, and the whole show came to a stop a few meters from the greeters.  
Princess Rune was the first to step foreword, with Londs at her shoulder. He carried one of the new forcepikes, a long steel tube elaborately decorated with a meter-long invisible blade at the tip. The blade wasn't active, which spared them at least the high pitched warning squeal that every weapon of it's kind was required to produce. Rune had argued with him about the necessity of greeting a royal guest while armed with such a lethal weapon, but this was one point on which Londs refused to budge anymore. Any time a member of the royal family appeared outside the castle walls they were to be escorted by no less than two armed guards, but he had agreed to at least come alone for the sake of appearances.  
The car stopped it's rhythmic drumming, and Londs tensed for an instant, but then the doors opened to let Afura, Shayla and John out. Afura walked ahead first, and greeted the princess with customary grace, and Shayla followed perfectly.   
Princess Rune, it is wonderful to see you in good health. How do the preparations go? Afura inquired.  
Thank you, great priestess. They go well, replied Rune. The whole exchange seemed dreadfully blasé, as though this were no more than a courtesy call. Priestess Shayla, it is good to see you again too.  
Hey, it's always my pleasure. You know I stop by whenever I can. Shayla shot a meaningful glance at Makoto, but his attention was focused on something just behind her, and his eyes were wide.  
continued Rune, I suppose that this is the traveler you spoke of? She stepped foreword again, and John blushed as her regal beauty registered with his hormones.  
Uh, yeah, he stammered out, then got himself back under control, my name's John, John Grey. It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess.  
He stuck his hand out, and Londs gawked at his total lack of manners. But Rune simply smiled, and accepted the handshake with dignity. Allow me to introduce your fellow travelers, she said, and waved towards the near end of the group, this is Masamichi Fujisawa, history teacher and honored war hero.  
John offered his hand, and Mr. Fujisawa took it and began to shake vigorously, I've heard that you were a student in high school, too. You know, I used to teach at Shinonomi Prefectural High School. I'd love to sit down and chat sometime about how our institutions were different!  
John disengaged as politely as he could, squeezing it in his other to make sure it still worked. Good lord, that man had a grip like a steel vise!  
Um, that sounds great, teach, he replied, and Fujisawa beamed as he used the ancient honorific. And you are?  
Miz looked up from the child that was hiding behind her and said, Oh, my name is Miz Fujisawa, but you can just call me Misses Miz. It's wonderful to meet you.  
John said, trying to take it all in stride, and walked over to the next person.  
Fatora glared out from under an elaborate hairdo that she had set up this morning, then exclaimed proudly, And I am the Princess Fatora, sister to Rune Venus and greatest lover in the kingdom of Roshtaria! And this is Alielle. As she said it Alielle latched herself onto Fatora's waist and giggled impishly, and John needed no explanations after that. Fatora's gaze was frankly curious and somewhat challenging, and he tried to meet it levelly, but he couldn't quite help the quirk that crept into his smile.  
he said, well, it's really nice to meet the two of you. _So far, so good_, he thought to himself. _All we need now is the elephant act and this little circus will be complete._  
And this is Doctor Stalubaugh, said Rune from behind him, dean of the Royal Academy and high council to the royal court.  
The stocky old man with a beard like an overgrown mop took his hand and said, It is a great pleasure to meet you, my boy. While we are no strangers to dimensional travel, I hope to learn much from you in the coming weeks about your journey. You could be of great help to us in finding a way to return you to earth.  
Oh really? said John. I don't know how much I can really tell you, Doc, but I'd be happy to help if I can.  
the doctor replied, and John stepped over to to the next girl.  
Hi, I'm Nanami, from Shinonome, Japan. I run the Shinonome Diner here. She smiled as her hand met his, and he shook it gently as he tried to keep the incredulous look that wanted to creep onto his face off. _Oh, man, is any one of the girls in this world _not_ beautiful?_  
Hey, it's great to meet John replied. And you're Makoto, right?  
The sullen-looking young man stared at him, and John was totally unprepared for the sadness so plainly evident in his eyes. John put his hand out in front of him, and Makoto looked at it, as though it were taking all of his energy to simply stand in front of him. Eventually he reached for it, and John took his hand in a two-handed grip of his own and shook.  
was all he said, and decided to leave the questioning for later.   
  
Jinnai peered out of the trees and around the guard towers, but his binoculars could only let him see so much. In the old days, before the Royal buildup, he and Groucho could have practically walked up to the gates and knocked. Hell, even getting as far as Makoto's own lab had been laughably easy. But now, they were required to be much more stealthy, and despite their size the Bugrom could move silent as a whisper when they wanted to.  
From what he could see, though, there was very definitely something interesting going on. The car, an old American make, he guessed, looked like it had been run into an adobe building or something. But when the stranger had gotten out of it, and those damnable priestesses had been with him, Jinnai had required all of his self control to keep from screaming in an incoherent rage.  
So that's what he was up to? There was no way Makoto would have built a thing like that, so he must have sent those harpys back to earth to get it. But what single person could be so important to him? Some kind of military genius to help him defeat Jinnai? But that wasn't possible, since Makoto didn't even know he was still alive. The more Jinnai watched, the more confused he got. It didn't make any sense!  
But then he saw something else happen, and this time he did scream.  
  
My name is Qawoor Towles, Priestess of Water. She smiled sweetly, but there was a sadness in her eyes, too, John thought. One that matched Makoto's too well.  
Mine's John, he said, and as he wrapped his hand around hers, a faint, magical glow began to surround it suddenly.  
was all he managed to sputter out before a jet of pure blue water shot from his hands and knocked Qawoor backwards, soaking her from head to toe.


	4. A door opens

:: Chapter Four::  
  


The silence that followed shouldn't have been possible in such a busy location. But even the technicians that had been hooking up a feeder hose to one of the Cruisers had turned to look, as the water priestess sat dazed in a puddle a meter and a half wide.  
Stunned faces turned first to Qawoor, then back to John, but he didn't seem to notice. He was staring at his hand as though he'd just shot someone with a pistol, and no one moved a muscle until he turned his head slowly back to the group.  
What was that? he asked in a tiny voice.  
Mr. Fujisawa jumped suddenly and ran over to Qawoor to make sure she was all right, but not even he could seem to form coherent words.  
Afura was the first to shake herself from her amazement. You, you must have reacted to her lamp, somehow!  
Her what? John asked in the same voice.  
Her lamp of Elemental Power. It's what gives her the power to control water.  
He backed up a few steps and held his unsteady hands out if front of him in a slow-down gesture, and he looked straight at Afura. Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it. All you said was that she was a priestess of some sort. You never said anything about magic powers.  
She blushed, and started to speak, but at this point Alielle stepped in. Um, maybe we should go sit down inside. I can get us some wine and we can all have a talk in the nice cool greeting hall. Come along, Fatora!  
Well, perhaps it would be best if we explained things to you in a more relaxed setting, Rune offered. If you'll follow me?  
  
Two hours later they were all sitting around a small table, sharing in some truly excellent wine from the Royal cellars. All except for Londs, that is, who remained at the entrance to watch over the entire party.  
John had insisted on sitting between Nanami and Makoto, in case anything else untoward should happen with the three priestesses. He had listened to their stories recounting the events of the past few years they'd spent in El Hazard, and now he brooded silently as he tried to comprehend the enormity of what they were telling him.  
So that's it, huh? he addressed the table, there's no way for me, I mean, us to get back?  
Makoto stared into his wine goblet and sighed. Dr. Stalubaugh and I have tried everything, gone through every book and scroll and legend we could get our hands on, and our best chance to do anything went up in smoke. Instead of taking us back home, all I really got accomplished was bringing you here by accident.  
It had been hard for Makoto to explain to everyone what he had tried, and why the royal family had been kept in the dark about it. Fatora in particular had been livid with him for keeping it a secret, but when Londs had explained to her the risks of anyone else knowing about it, she had calmed down a bit. That hadn't kept her from almost biting Makoto's head off, and Nanami and Shayla had nearly gone to blows to protect him from Fatora. But Afura and, to everyone's surprise, John, had intervened on Makoto's behalf, and now everyone was quiet again as the two guys tried to figure out just what kind of relationship they were going to have.  
It was John who spoke next, and while he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular, it was obvious that his statement was meant for Makoto.  
Once, there was this girl. _Jeez,_ he though to himself in amusement,_ how many stories have I told that started out just like that?_ I was never really sure what it was about her that made her so special, but, it seemed like that whenever I was around her, no matter what was going on in my life, I felt happy. Her whole presence was so, _intoxicating_, that I couldn't help but feel that way.  
John toyed with his glass as his voice took on a husky edge. But I never told her how I felt. And for all these years I've wondered, what it would have been like if I'd been able to say it. So all I need to know, Makoto, is if you love her.  
He turned his head to regard Makoto, and Makoto looked back at him for the first time through eyes that did not show fear. He still doubted himself too much to believe he could ever do it, but something important happened to him in that instant, when he realized that John didn't blame him for what had happened. It was time to move on, and the strength of conviction in response startled him.  
Yes, I do.  
John nodded and put his hand foreword to Makoto again. This time he took it without hesitation, and they shook as old friends who had found each other after years of being apart.  
Then that's good enough for me, said John. So where do we begin?  
Afura cleared her throat, rather louder than was necessary, and said, Well, there is still the question of why Qawoor's lamp reacted to you the way it did. Only a Holy Priestess has the training necessary to control it's powers.  
That's right, Miz chimed in, there's never been anyone outside the Seminary who could use them. Maybe we should take him to the temple?  
Yeah, I'll bet if there's anyone who can figure it out, Headmistress Moram could! Shayla added.  
said John, and while we're on our way there maybe you could explain to me just what it is I'm supposedly controlling? I mean, it might be fun for a while, but I don't exactly want to walk around shooting water jet-thingies whenever I meet someone new.  
Afura nodded to him, For now, it would probably be best if you didn't follow along too close to us, then she stood up. Well, are you ready?  
John sighed. He had no idea what he was getting into with these who as far as he could tell weren't really all that holy. But if it had anything to do with why he'd come here, then it was worth following up on. _Besides,_ John admitted to himself, _anything that gets me involved with _any _of those three can't be a bad thing, now can it? _His eyes hung admiringly on Afura's profile for half a second, but it was a half second too long, and she noticed his scrutiny. They both turned away, cheeks heating, and Afura spoke again.  
It is a long journey, so we'd best not waste anymore time. Then she walked out of the room without saying another word, nose in the air as always.  


  


Masamichi tossed the beat-up rucksack onto the back of the packmule he would ride out of the city, and Makoto dragged his own up behind him.  
Sensei, remind me again just why we're going there?  
Mr. Fujisawa's legendary passion for mountain climbing hadn't abated in the year and a half they had lived in El Hazard; in fact, it had grown in the face of a world whose mountains no earthling had ever climbed. And while the Royal Academy had accepted his reasons for postponing his recognition ceremony by a few days, they were quite disgruntled about it.  
Now he looked back at Makoto, and told him, Well, the chance to climb Mt. Shiv at last was just too much to pass up. Plus, John is from earth, too. We should be there for him, since I'm sure you appreciate what he's going through. Come on, it'll be just like the class camping trip up Mt. Fujisan!  
Makoto smiled at his old teacher's gruff enthusiasm, for he and Fujisawa were the only ones accompanying the priestesses and John. There seemed to be an odd level of secrecy surrounding the real reasons that John had been called to the holiest place in the land, and whenever Makoto had asked about it, the priestesses had clammed up in a hurry. But now, it felt like they were getting ready to go off on some grand adventure again, and he allowed himself the first feeling of near-happiness he'd had in a long time.  
You're right, sensei, let's get going!  
He picked up his own rucksack, and settled it into place on his mount, and the pair rode off into the sunset after their charges.  
  


****  


  
It has been a long time, child.  
The Headmistress of the Muldoon Seminary, Mother Ritan Moram, spoke slowly but strongly, and looked frail enough to blow away on the slightest wisp of wind. Her gray hair was long enough to cover her knees as she sat in the small chair at the top of the steps, and the lights spilling from the stained glass windows behind her gave the whole scene the feel of an ancient mosaic painting.  
Afura Mann knelt on the ancient flagstone floors, and tried not to think about how truly old the Mother before her was. Ritan Moram had been a high priestess in the Seminary when Afura's mother had been her own age, and had written the formal script which accepted Afura as an acolyte herself.  
But if the Mother was old, then the seat which she occupied was ancient beyond legend. The two of them were alone in what had come to be called the Hall of Scriptures, a singular extension of the Temple Home - the base of operations for all the Holy Priestesses, including those of elemental magic - in the northern lands of Roshtaria. The hall extended east for two hundred meters off the main building, and running the length of it was a single stained-glass skylight one meter across. The hall contained every scroll, script, and book that had been written into the lore of the Temple, and had existed for as long as recorded time. The end of the hall fanned out into a dome of the same glass, and in the center of this dome was a small chair, the position reserved solely for the Mother, the head of all the religious institutions in the land.  
It has, Mother Afura replied reverently.  
A small chuckle echoed faintly in the otherwise silent hall. Come come now, Afura, look at me when you wish to speak. And for goodness sakes, try not to sound like you're suffocating yourself. Such kowtowing does not become you, great priestess.  
Forgive me, Mother, Afura replied, shaken, but, the last time we met, you...  
Moram smiled weakly. Oh, you're still brooding over that well-deserved tongue lashing I gave you before you left. Honestly, were you listening to me at all when I warned you about that attitude of yours?  
Afura paled as the memory replayed itself in a flash. It had been the day of her confirmation as the next Great Priestess of Wind, and in gross violation of all the written ceremonial laws Moram had summoned her to his very hall to address her in private just before she was due to receive her lamp. Moram had never been known to dress down her students in public, but the naked contempt for Afura's barely-contained exultation in front of the other students when _she_ had been named had shaken Afura to the core. It had also done more to humble her than her closer friends might have suspected.  
At least, she had thought that Moram genuinely despised her. But it had been years since that day, and the Mother had summoned her in private again, despite the fact that she had to know why all three of the Muldoon Priestesses were really here. Did this mean that she now thought highly of her, or merely wanted to scorn her again?  
she said finally. She hated the slight tremor she could hear in her voice.  
Well, well, at least you've learned to be honest with yourself. That's a start. The Mother stood gingerly, and to Afura's surprise walked down the steps and stood in front of her.  
_She looks much older than the last time I saw her,_ Afura thought to herself. _I wonder if the other rumors are true?_  
she said simply.  
Afura complied, but still would not meet Moram's eyes.  
She continued, Now, I know why you've come here, Afura. I know that you've stumbled across a boy, not unlike your other friend Makoto, who wields the unusual ability to use our magic. You've brought him here to see if he can be trusted with this ability.  
Afura nodded a yes.  
The elderly woman began to walk around her student in small steps. I suppose you realized that there has never been a male who could do this, except of course in legend?  
Afura nodded again. In more recent history it had been confirmed that only a female could carry the gene that allowed spiritual interaction with the lamps which were used to control the magical energies of their world. But in the ancient texts there was lore of one of the ancient El Hazard civilizations that dwelled in the desert regions. They ordained priests, not priestesses to fill the positions that Moram was responsible for overseeing now, but they had existed nearly four thousand years ago.  
It is an interesting puzzle indeed, and your request must be considered very carefully, Mother Moram walked over to the book shelf that was nearest to the beginning of the domed study, and ran her finger down the spines of the texts that adorned it. You may await my decision in the dormitories. I require the rest of the day to meditate.  
It was clearly a dismissal, and Afura bowed deeply before turning around, and an air of confusion followed her out of the study and all the way into her sleep that night.  


  


John wore the robes that all entering students were required to wear while on the Temple Home compound. But there were a few differences between his and the rest of the student body's. Where the standard color was a deep earthen tan, his were charcoal gray.  
And secondly, he was the only male to wear one on a campus of almost 2,500 teenage girls and young women.  
The Temple Home spanned an area at least two hundred acres on a side, and while the main campus was located on only a tiny part of that land, it was one of the few places where they had bothered to build anything at all. They were located in a particularly dense section of the Tinmar Jungle, similar in makeup to the Amazon rain forest back on earth. Which meant that it was like walking through a steam bath on the ground, where there were paths, and where there were none rope bridges ran from treetrunk to treetrunk dozens of meters off the ground.  
John studied the map he had been given of the campus, and if he read it right there were seven separate buildings on the entire compound, all on differing terrains. The Main Hall, where the residencies were located and where he was starting from, was actually on top of a rocky mesa, whereas the Trainer's Hall was deep inside the jungle.  
He'd been told that it was nearly unheard of for a man to be allowed onto the compound; Mr. Fujisawa and Makoto had been required to stay just outside of it in a small farming village. Shayla, Afura, Miz and Qawoor had taken John directly to the Main Hall, and he had tried very, very hard to seem disinterested as hundred of girls - all around his own age - stared and giggled as he walked by. But he was forbidden to talk to any of them until someone called the said it was all right, so he had been set up in a small, disused shack behind the primary dormitories and told to write down whatever it was he may need and hand it to the nearest acolyte.  
His weird joy at being the only guy within half a mile of all these girls had soured quickly as his isolation from them was made plain, and it had been almost a whole day since he'd arrived in which he hadn't been able to say a word to anyone. He'd compensated by asking for and reading any materials they were allowed to give him on the that he was supposed to be able to work, and he was just about to go out for a stroll around the campus when Qawoor walked into his little hut.  
Hi John, she said in her usual lilting tone, I thought you'd be here. I see they've given you something to do, at least.  
He looked up from the map and smiled back at her. Yeah, I figured that if I'm going to be here for a while, I might as well read up on the place. He stood, placing the papyrus map carefully on top of the stack he'd been reading through, and asked her, What's going on?  
she replied, I'm not sure exactly, but Afura told me that you've been asked to enter the Hall of Scriptures. I can show you where that is, if you'd like me to.  
John waved airily out the door. Lead the way.  


  


Five minutes later they approached the humongous wooden doors that barred entry to the Hall. Two guards, which John knew from the texts he had managed to read looked innocent but could easily take him apart with their bare hands, stood on either side of the door, and he couldn't help but notice that Qawoor looked truly nervous beside him.  
As they'd made their way through the Temple, John had been aware of a steady thinning of foot traffic. It had been almost frantic with people at the entrance, but the further back they had walked, the fewer and fewer people they seemed to be passing. It had been almost two full minutes, in fact, since they had heard anyone else's footsteps, and a nervous feeling began to settle into Johns' stomach as well. It was clear that only the highest ranking officials ever made it this far without being decapitated. Or worse.  
One of the guards on the right noticed their approach, and she closed her eyes for a second. John wondered what she was doing, but as soon as they stopped the doors began to creak open, and the guard opened her eyes again. _Allright, _thought John, _it's official; I am FREAKED out._   
The doors stopped their movement, and silence lingered for a few seconds before an almost inaudible voice beckoned from the end of the enormous hallway,   
John shrugged slightly and began to walk foreword, and he got about ten steps before he realized that Qawoor wasn't following him. He looked back to her questioningly, but she stood still at the entrance.  
This is for you alone to see, she said, and turned around. The doors closed behind her, and John noticed the gorgeous artistry hanging over his head. _This place would have impressed Michalangelo,_ he thought, as he allowed himself a minute to stare at the intricate artwork in the ceiling glass. The fading daylight played over it and cast and ever-changing pattern of light on his face, and he shook himself as he remembered what he was really here for.  
Beautiful, isn't it? asked the same elderly voice, and John walked towards it.  
Yes, I think there's only one thing I've seen to equal it, he responded.  
There is nothing else quite like it on all this world, but I am glad to hear that there is something close to it in yours. She stood now as John approached, and she stepped lightly down to the walkway he had taken.  
Hello, John of Pennsylvania. I am Mother Ritan Moram, Headmistress of the Muldoon Seminary. She stuck her hand out towards him, and smiled. I've been told that you had a rather unique experience when you first came here.  
John said sheepishly as he shook her hand with the utmost care, it was kind of an accident, really. I've never seen anything like it, but when I touched the ring Qawoor was wearing, it, _reacted_ to me somehow.  
Moram nodded. Your confusion mirrors our own, young man. Tell me, how much have you learned about our Temple in your short stay here?  
he began, I know that in your religion you worship various elemental gods, who speak' to you through those lamps that everyone wears. These lamps are only given to a priestess who attains the highest level of communion with her chosen element, and...  
So just the basics, Moram interrupted him.  
I guess so.  
That's good. But you must realize that there is much more to it that just religious doctrine. She waved at the reams of books that John had walked past on his way through the hall.  
Yeah, you could spend two lifetimes just reading about all that, John said flippantly as he turned to look at the walls of history behind him.  
I have, replied Moram, in perfectly serious tones.  
Johns eyes grew wide as it registered with him. _It makes sense, since she looks old enough to be my great-great grandmother._ He turned back to her slowly, and she continued.  
By now you must have realized that there are no other men in the Temple? John nodded dumbly, and she went on. That is because no man can control the elemental powers that are the basis of our religion. We have traced it to a gene that exists in about 2% of the female populace. There was a time, many millennia ago, when a man could be ordained as well, but never since then.  
She examined him closely as he absorbed this incredible knowledge. His expression was dumbfounded, but Moram sensed the deep intelligence behind his purposefully lighthearted persona. That was good, she thought. At least he would be able to comprehend the enormity of what she was about to ask him.  
It's not easy to become a priestess, she said, and John blinked at the apparent _non seqitor_. As I'm sure Afura or Qawoor could tell you, it takes years of harsh discipline and training to be able to control a Lamp of Elemental Power. That is why this ability you have gained surprised us so totally. It usually requires at least two years before a girl can even attempt what you did by accident'. I'm sure that you can understand our curiosity under these circumstances.  
He nodded, and then he stepped back involuntarily as she closed her eyes. The domed ceiling they were standing under began to retract outwards, and a tremendous window opened out to look over the edge of the mesa they were on and into the jungle below. The sun was setting in front of them, and John shielded his eyes from the bright stab of sunlight that fell across him.  
Too bright for you? Moram asked, and John blinked at her. She seemed to nod to herself, then closed her eyes again for a second, and when he looked up, the sunlight was _dimmer_ somehow, as though he were looking at it through a good set of sunglasses. He reached up to his eyes instinctively, but there was nothing there. He looked at her again, and she smiled.  
Yes, I am responsible for both feats. You see, there are more than three elements in this world that require our care. The priestesses who reside on Mt. Muldoon are there for the public to believe in, but our skills vary quite wildly. The element I chose to study was that of Spirit. I can see into your heart, young John.  
John took another step backwards at this, but before he could say anything she continued.  
I cannot read your mind, if that was your concern. What I can sense is the state of your emotions, and also your beliefs. And right now I can tell that you don't believe me.  
He nodded quickly, and said in a quivering voice, I don't understand any of this. I've never believed in god' or any other supernatural power. How are you doing this?  
She held her arms up, and her sleeves fell back to reveal two bracelets; one looked much like the lamps that Afura and Shayla wore, but the gem at the center of this one was the purest black Onyx John had ever seen. The other one, much more delicately constructed, was a thin silver band that had a perfectly clear round gem on it.  
Each of us has an inkling, a tiny fraction of spiritual power that keeps us alive, maintains our consciousness. But this power is a drop in the ocean of elemental fury that this world is made of, and it requires great care to keep these forces in balance. You, through your journey to our world, have gained the ability to tap into these powers.  
As she spoke, a smoky gray mist began to swirl out of the clear gem, and before he knew it John and Moram were enveloped by it, and then the scenery around them changed, and John knew that he was now observing a historical memory, an illusionary account of events past. If you had asked how he knew, he could not have told you. The knowledge was instinctual, on a level he could not touch yet.  
They floated just above the perfect green grass, and the illusion was so complete that John could feel the soft warmth of the summer sunlight on his cheeks. He looked around himself at the countryside, and the farmlands stretched out beyond the horizon, beyond the range of his vision. There were no sounds besides the rustle of a gentle breeze through the wheat fields, and Moram spoke into this memory.  
The skill which is required to manipulate these forces is beyond the comprehension of most people, but that has not prevented those with evil motives from attempting to learn our secrets. They made an example out of the innocent, to force us to bend to their whims, but there were consequences they did not anticipate.  
The silence was broken abruptly by a large explosion just ahead of them, and John tried not to reel back as his mind shouted to his emotions that this was not real. But it was hard to believe that such a scene of tranquility could be disturbed so violently, and even as he watched an army of figures approached them over the horizon.  
They were human, definitely, but John could not ascertain where they were from; their dress seemed archaic, even by El Hazard standards.  
The figures were growing larger in the distance, and as they came John became aware of another, smaller band coming up from behind him. As he watched a group of no more than six women, all priestesses by their dress, ran across the fields with terrifying speed. As they passed one of them leapt up into the air, and John could feel now the strength of the winds they were all running on. The priestess who jumped flew through the air ahead of the rest of them, and then pulled up short and concentrated for a few seconds.  
More explosions dotted the landscape before him as the attackers closed the range, and John could smell the acrid stench of burning foliage rush into his nostrils. The flying priestess completed her incantations, and reached both arms behind her, as though gathering invisible forces. Then she pushed foreword suddenly, and a terrible whirlwind formed in front of her. It gathered strength and speed, and it's fury lashed into the enemy as they came in range at last. The wind cut a path of destruction almost a hundred meters wide, but the vast formations held, and the army advanced around the bodies of their dead comrades.  
The other priestesses had yet to speak, and now bursts of elemental fury intermingled with the mounting carnage of the enemy's own weapons. Another explosion, this one right in the heart of the enemy formation, tore at their ranks, but there were at least several hundred thousand soldiers in the lines, and John heard the screams of agony as they were burned alive by the hundreds. A section of earth buckled suddenly beneath their heavy weaponry, and then it rose up out of the ground into the air and shattered, and the weapons and their gunners fell to bury the corpses that lay beneath them as secondary explosions of unused ammunition rocked the rear of the formation.  
With a tremendous _clap!_ a lightning bolt of incredible power crashed down from above and cascaded through the troops in a chain reaction; a lucky few died instantly, but the rest of them victims simply burned up inside their own bodies, and the stench of ozone rose from the field. The bolts continued like the fury of God, as a vicious cascade of electricity was flowing around the priestess who created them.  
The fighting grew more intense, and the front lines clashed with the tight-knit group at last. Two of the priestesses died instantly as waiting weapons took their heads off in a rush of blood. A wall of water encircled the two who remained on the ground, while a third rose in the air to meet the first. The waters grew in radius, and more soldiers were swept up in it and tossed around like rag dolls, but it could not be sustained, and even as the wall began to recede another volley of fiery death came down upon the battlefield, and wiped away another hundred lives.  
The waters fell, and just as the soldiers began to advance again another tornado touched down upon where the priestesses had lain, and it moved across the soldiers like a vengeful demon. But it too could not last, and it eventually dissipated into nothing. When it did, the priestesses were nowhere to be seen, and the remaining soldiers - no more than two-thirds their original strength - grimly set about burying their friends before moving on.


	5. The ancient enemy

::Chapter Five::  
  


John blinked as the terrible wreckage of human lives he had just witnessed vanished, and his heart slowed as he reminded himself again that Moram's illusion had been meant only to illustrate the powers he was supposed to be meddling in.  
They were back in the study, and the sun had long since set behind the distant mountains. The doors to the cavernous window had shut, and Moram stood at his side, obviously fatigued by the feat she had just accomplished.  
What you witnessed was not a trick of the light, as the Phantom Tribe plays with. That was a trick of the spirit, which is why you not only saw but felt how terrible the disaster of the Holy Wars was. That battle, while famous in our lore, was but a small sample of the waste those Wars wrought upon our lands.  
The Mother turned to him with weary eyes, and John could sense that she was not just looking at him, she was looking _into_ him, and a part of him wanted to shrink from her gaze. But his stronger half kept him rooted, and he endured her scrutiny, no longer than a few seconds, before she spoke again.  
I can see your spirit, John, she repeated to him, and I know that were you to gain these powers I have shown you, you would use them only for good. But I can only read your heart; I cannot tell you the course of action you should take. I offer now to oversee your training in the ways of the ancient arts, if that is what you seek.   
he replied weakly. The seriousness of what she proposed hung on him, as the little he had learned of their world began to seem like a puddle next to the ocean of history he would be dealing with.  
I've only been here for a few days, a week at most, he managed finally, and from what I've learned you guys have a really great world here. But why are you offering this to me so soon? Aren't there others here who have trained harder, would be more worthy? I'm not trying to say no, but I have to wonder, if there are others that have this same ability, then why me?  
Moram began to walk back to her chair, and she said The location of this Temple Home is well known to even our worst enemies, and in all our history no one has dared attack it but once. Their attempt was, shall we say, unsuccessful. As she sat John thought he could see the tiniest glimpse of amusement in her eyes, but she continued before he could inquire into it.  
But we cannot keep you here forever. Especially since the knowledge of how you came here, and the accident on the Royal grounds with poor Qawoor's lamp, will be spread across the lands by the next sunrise. With the help of young Nanami, your friend from Earth, you may be safe outside these walls, if we can teach you enough to allow your training outside them.  
Johns face was confused. What does Nanami have to do with it? he asked her.  
Our greatest fear, contrary to the official belief of the Royal Army, is not that the Bugrom will rise again. We will be able to deal with them well enough when the time comes, if it comes at all. Our fears are based on a threat far more, illusory.  
  
The Phantom Tribe. We still have no idea where they are hiding at present, and if they should ever ally with a more powerful foe their combined strength could be enough to break even our resolve. The Tribe hates all of Roshtaria with a deep, racial passion that cannot be abated, and it is their interference that I worry could endanger you.  
John said matter-of-factly, you want me to stay with Nanami so that they won't be able to steal me away in the night.  
she confirmed, we feel that once you begin training outside the Temple, it would be wise of you to stay with her at all times so as to negate their abilities. Because when they find out that a man outside of Temple is using the Lamps that they have sought control of for a generation, they will do anything in their power to aquire' you.  
Moram sighed deeply. We cannot prevent them from learning of you, my dear boy, and this is the best way that I can see to make sure that their ambitions do not pay off.  
John nodded reluctantly. No one would catch him complaining about being forced to be at Nanami's side day and night for the foreseeable future, but he still felt woefully unprepared for what was about to happen.  
But at the same time he could not refute the assertion that through no fault of his own, his life was now seriously in danger. And if there was one thing he had never learned, it was how to say no' to someone when they were in need. Even if it was himself.  
Allright, I'll do it.  
  


****  


  
The wraith named Kiro, the fastest and most lethal messenger that the Phantom Tribe had ever trained, moved through the trees with frightening speed. Wraiths were taught to be invisible, silent, and absolutely deadly when necessary, but of all those who were skilled it was Kiro who had been selected to deliver this, perhaps the most important single message in the memory of the Tribe.  
The Council's response had not been swift, but it had been decisive. The Tribe could not continue to hide from their true enemies; either they must be eliminated, or they would die out themselves. Even if this meant dealing with the corrupt and disgusting Bugrom Empire', a thought that was still hard for many of his people to swallow.  
But the deed was done, Kiro had been sent on his way, and by long tradition the message a wraith carried could not be retracted once he left to deliver it.  
Finding the Bugrom had been the easy part; that incompetent leader' Jinnai and his bitch queen hadn't bothered to hide their tunnel network very well, and while the Tribe had no doubt that the Roshtarians would never be able to follow them, it had been easy enough to hide amongst the ever-mounting traffic through those tunnels and follow them until they found the hive base.  
Despite their assumptions about the reproductive limitations having only one queen would place upon them, the Tribe had been astonished at the progress they had made in rebuilding their ranks. While the Council had doubted very seriously that the Bugrom would risk destroying them in an all-out operation, since that would clearly alert the Roshtarians to prepare for an attack on themselves, they had worded their proposal so as to very carefully placate the mad ruler who drove them. The level of pandering in their words had turned Kiro's stomach; since their message could never be given the chance to fall into enemy hands, a wraith always memorized it exactly so that there would be no hard copy to find. But if it brought them closer to their ultimate goal, then almost any amount of bowing was acceptable.  
The moonlight caught a faint cloud against the clear starlit sky, and there was no sound nor sight at all to warn the Bugrom of what approached.  
  
  


****  


  
Katsuhiko stood up abruptly from his new throne, spilling the mug of tea at his elbow.  
Aaaaarrrgh, I KNEW IT! That dastardly Mizuhara has done it again! He's going off to find some new and hideous evil power to use against me OH! this is Terrible!  
Diva watched as he paced back and forth, willing to wait out the storm that blew through their shared command area with increasing frequency. It seemed that the closer they got to their planned activation point, the more nervous Jinnai became. It was the exact opposite of his earlier unflappable self-confidence, and Diva worried that the, change, in their relationship had something to do with it.  
It had been awkward at first. She could admit that easily now, since there was so much else to concentrate on with the preparations for Jinnai's Operation: Run Silent, Run Deep. What he had proposed initially when they were preparing to bring about the new Bugrom Empire had been highly disturbing at first. To Diva, who had been responsible for the last generation of her empire, the idea of Bugrom warriors was a personal affront, and seemed a terrible waste of resources considering that they were building up from bedrock.  
But Jinnai had found a way to make the tradeoff worthwhile. Each Bugrom warrior required an enormous amount of energy to function, which they were provided through the sugar-sweet dried epoxy that formed in place of their basic hive structure. But if you halved their size, you could produce two for the price of one, in a word, and actually reduce total required logistical overhead while doubling the amount of covering and raiding forces you had at your disposal. And based on the ease with which their warriors had defeated the puny Roshtarian troops the first time around, the new Bugrom should be able to take them on again, no matter how well they thought they were doing with their new   
The original idea had come out of Jinnai and Groucho's time spent in Cretaria; strength in numbers. And while he had described his own experience with the alternate world's Diva as being anything but pleasant, she had to admit that he had certainly come back to them motivated.  
But his infamous temper had taken hold now as their scouts had reported seeing his old schoolmate Makoto traveling with the three Muldoon Priestesses towards some kind of holy place. There was only reason that Makoto even existed, in Jinnai's opinion, and that was to foil every evil scheme he came up with. Diva had never fully understood their rivalry, if indeed one existed on the other end, and the reasons for his singular obsession with tracking this poor boy's every move were still a mystery.  
Diva realized that he was still ranting, and she interrupted him sternly.  
Mr. Jinnai - they had long ago agreed to refer to each other by their old honorific names in public - what has you so upset? Surely a little side trip into the mountains is nothing to be concerned about?  
Jinnai stopped himself short, then cleared his throat. Normally I would agree with you Diva, but wherever those foul harpys go, there's something of incredible power that they're either sealing or unsealing or using against us in some hideous way! And that weird American kid who somehow has similar powers; no, they're up to something, I just know it.  
He began to pace back and forth again in front of their shared throne, and he continued speaking absentmindedly. I know Mizuhara's been working on gaining control of the Eye of God in order to get Ifurita back, and I know he was responsible for bringing that stranger from earth. But what's the connection? Why didn't he bring Ifurita back instead? Unless... oh yeah! Makoto knows he can't best me in military strategy, so he brought someone back who he thinks can!  
But, Mr. Jinnai, you've said yourself that the forces of Roshtaria cannot possibly know where we are. As long as our warriors remain hidden we have nothing to fear.  
He stopped his pacing abruptly, and gulped in that strange high-pitched tone only he could manage, then continued more humbly, Yes, well, you can never be too careful. Whether they know of us or not, it never hurts to gain as much knowledge of the enemy's positions as you can.  
He looked up, and there was a dangerous light in his eyes.  
he said, no matter what kind of preparations they've made, they'll never expect what I've got planned for them.  
And then he laughed.  
  


****  
  


Two empty bottles now lay on the table between them, and the three men sitting around it laughed in unison as one of them tipped over, seemingly by itself.  
Mr. Fujisawa, Makoto and John had become fast friends over the past week and a half. Whether this was because of their shared experience of being superhuman in a totally new world, or if they just had enough in common to make bonding easy given time, or the copious amount of booze they'd just consumed, it hardly mattered. Despite everything that was going on around them, at this time, in this place, they were nothing more than three good buddies sharing the night.  
Now John tipped over and fell on his back to imitate the bottle, and this awoke fresh bursts of laughter from each of them. Makoto leaned over to help him up, but lost his own balance and collapsed in a heap next to John, and it was two minutes before either of them could stop laughing enough to get back up.  
Whoop, you guys both fell over! exclaimed Fujisawa as he took another swig. Be careful around here, you don't know what people might think of us. He he he ha ha.  
Makoto sighed as he rested his head on the table and looked at him. Sensei, do you think we'll ever get home?  
This seemingly simple question had a profound effect on the teacher. He stopped in mid-sip, and set the bottle back down on the table.  
Yeah, aren't you like, married, or something? John asked, and made a random gesture above his head to indicate that Fujisawa should have thought of this already.  
Fujisawa nodded reluctantly, Yeah, Miz is great and all, I just don't know what'd happen to us if we went back. I mean, I'm not Superman over there, you know? What if she comes back and meets someone else?  
While his words were slurred, the worry and pain behind them was real, and Makoto tried to reassure him as best he could.  
Oh, come on, sensei. She'll always think you're a super hero. Besides, you've got a kid now, too. Shouldn't Mika be enough to make you happy?  
The issue of what the trio from Shinonome (it was always assumed that Jinnai would remain with the Bugrom, on the grounds that no university would accept an application for entry that listed Leader of the Roshtarian Invasion Forces under extracurricular activities) would do if they got back had been growing rapidly thornier, because every day they spent in El Hazard was one they didn't spend on Earth. If they came back after all that time, and tried to get away with the alternate dimension story as the reason for their sudden disappearances, they'd be locked away for sure. But they had to have a story, and while several had been proposed, it was also getting harder and harder to believe that they would ever make it back.  
The problem was compounded when Mr. Fujisawa not only married, but produced a child and earned a job at the highest center of learning in all Roshtaria. How could he say that there was a better reason to live on earth, with all that he had built here for himself?  
All these questions and more had weighed heavily on Masamichi's mind this past year, but he'd been able to hide it from his friends behind his roguish personality. In truth he couldn't say that his bachelor lifestyle held any more merit, and he did love Miz deeply. Just why that was he could never say, but every time he looked into his wife's eyes the whirlwind of life around him died, and everything fit neatly into place. So what if the woman of his dreams didn't even come from the same dimension? He'd found a happiness that he knew he could never get from his teaching, and every time he thought of returning to Earth without Miz he felt a hollowness inside, as though he knew he would never be complete again without her.  
But he told Makoto and John none of this, and as he endured their scrutiny he felt an instant annoyance at them for being so curious.  
Oh, what business is it of yours, anyway? You know I'd never leave them behind! How dare you suggest such a thing?  
But sensei, replied a half-stunned and half-drunk Makoto, I never said anything of the sort. All I asked was if you were happy.  
'Course I am! Why wouldn't I be? I've got as much right as anyone else to a normal life, if there's even such a thing in this crazy world. Besides, you've got all kindsa issues with the girls, dontcha?  
Makoto looked confused. Whaddaya mean, the girls'?  
John put his arm around his friends shoulder and sighed, Oh Makoto, Makoto, what ever shall we do with you? You mean to tell me that you really don't notice?  
It was Makoto's turn to act with false indignity. You know, I don't think they've ever actually said a word to me. Except Nanami, she's hinted a few times that people must think we're a couple.  
But they know who you're really after, Fujisawa interrupted, don't they, Makoto?  
His cheeks heated, and then he hung his head and turned to John, You know what? I'm really, really really sorry for what happened. Really sorry. I just, I wanted so _bad_ to get her back, and I thought I knew what was goin' on, but I just couldn't do it, and now you're here and you've got no life and...  
John interrupted him this time, Stop, stop it. I mean that. He took a final swig from his glass and reeled a bit before going on. All of them were well past drunk, and their words were beginning to slur more and more. I've already said that's allright, I don't blame you for it, and at least I've still got my car with me. That, I think, is important. And, I think, I'm not going back to school ever again!  
At this a huge grin crossed his face, and he began to giggle, and the other two men joined him. Their laughter carried out of the windows of the tavern and into the empty streets of the town they stayed in, an no one guessed the pain it hid.  
  


****  
  


Shayla and Qawoor sighed in unison when they stepped into the tiny sleeping quarters. The windows had been closed and shuttered, and only a few sunbeams broke through to illuminate the mess. There were at least five empty bottles lying around that were visible, and offhand Shayla guessed that three of them belonged to Fujisawa alone. There were probably more hiding underneath the sheets and dirty clothes that were strewn about the room, and she set to wading through them.  
Geeze, would ya look at this? she remarked to her blue-haired companion, looks like the boys really let loose last night. She managed this time to hide her resentment that they (or more specifically, Makoto) hadn't invited her along. Again.  
Qawoor took a hesitant step into the mess and looked around. Miss Shayla? Are you even sure they're in here? I can't see them.  
Shayla stood and looked around the room, and her eyes picked out a pile of towels that was moving up and down gently with suspicious regularity. Slowly she moved to the shuttered window and removed them, and then yanked the towels off the breathing mass suddenly.  
Rise and shine, Makoto! Come on, you'll sleep the whole day away!  
replied John from beneath a bright floral pattern. What the, ow! He threw his hands up over his face to block out the sunlight, then moved them to his temples and began to massage them brutally.  
Oh, it's you, Shayla stuttered, I didn't mean, I, uh, well...  
Qawoor stepped in before John's addled brain could cope with any of this. John? Where are Mr. Fujisawa and master Makoto? Are they in here somewhere too?  
John's eyes moved with slowly dawning comprehension from Shayla's face to Qawoor's. So that was why he felt utterly wretched; he'd woken up. He groaned to himself and tried to stand up, but a pile of pillows and towels was pinning him down. What were all those doing here? He looked around the room and realized that they must have taken every spare piece of cloth in the entire inn. But why? What could possibly have possessed them to scrounge up clean cloth diapers and handkerchiefs and comforters that way? And why was there a small pile of crushed exotic fruit rotting away in the corner?  
Then it came back to him.  
I think we were just trying to get comfortable, he said slowly, as though unsure of his own words. The beds, you see, had lumps in them.  
Qawoor quirked her eyebrows at his explanation, and Shayla did all she could to not burst into laughter. He probably didn't even realize how ridiculous it sounded.  
Um, yeah, she said behind a chuckle, well, what about the other guys? Makoto? Mr. Fujisawa?  
Qawoor went over to the second window to open it, but she couldn't get the shutters open. She tugged at it for a bit, but it was as if there were something incredibly heavy tied to the handles on the outside.  
Miss Shayla, can you help me get this window open?  
Shayla walked over to the window, and they both heaved backwards on the window. They parted slightly, and Shayla heard what sounded like an incredibly loud snore come in from the outside between the shutters, but then the weight pulled back on them and they both fell forewords into the window sill.  
I don't believe it, Shayla said to herself, John, is that Mr. Fujisawa hanging outside the window in a sheet?  
Makoto rose suddenly from behind them. He stretched out silently, then hiccuped, and both girls jumped and turned around to face him.  
Master Makoto, what are you doing underneath those bed sheets? Qawoor asked. We came up here to wake you. It's almost midday now, they're waiting at the temple for you.  
added Shayla, you guys are in serious trouble. Afura's furious; she's been ready for hours. She's waiting downstairs for John to wake up.  
he said at length. Oh good morning Shayla, Qawoor. What time did you say it was?  
Shayla replied furiously, Well past the time you should've been up! Ah well, I knew you guys couldn't hold your liquor. Afura should've known better than to trust you to be on time. She folded her arms together and turned around, and Makoto looked at her wearily.  
Oh give us a break, would you Shayla? It's not like we meant to be late. Why do you always have to be so pushy?  
His words were slurred and slow to come out, but as soon as he'd finished speaking Shayla had him up by the collar of his shirt.  
I am NOT pushy! she yelled. You take that back!  
Makoto obviously couldn't yet form the words he needed, so all he could do was flail about and groan a bit as hands like iron clamps held him immobile. But before Shayla could speak again, something hideous climbed through the window and fell into the room.  
sighed Mr. Fujisawa as he stood up in front of Qawoor, Nothing like a good nights' sleep out in the cool mountain air! Yeah, I feel great!  
Qawoor said, Um, but Mr. Fujisawa, we're not in the mountains.  
He ignored her statement, and began to look around the room he had slept just outside of. He finished his slow sweep, and then looked to Makoto, and asked him, Ah, just what did we do last night?  
John answered from the corner, I think Qawoor said something about being comfortable? Mpf mm hm mm-mmmpfmph hundred towels. His words were muffled through the sleeve of the shirt he was putting on.  
Fujisawa grinned. Oh. Well guys, I guess that sake was a bit harder on you than I expected. Let's get all this cleaned up, come on now, look alive! Oh, and Shayla-Shayla?  
She looked over at him through narrowed eyes, and raised an eyebrow in question.  
Put Makoto down so he can help, would ya?  
  
The three friends stepped out of the saloon-style doors lockstep into the daylight, and two surly priestesses followed them out. Mr. Fujisawa, John, and Makoto paused at the steps that led down to the cobblestone streets, and took a deep full breath in unison, as though returning the everyday life they'd tried to escape to themselves.  
It had taken a while to sort out who all the linens belonged to, almost an hour and a half since Qawoor and Shayla had gone to wake them. In that time, Afura had absolutely refused to move; when they came out she would be standing there, arms folded and face a mask for her disappointment, ready to kick and cajole her new charge into flying the straight and narrow.  
And wasn't quite the misnomer it might have been, for in her infinite wisdom, Mother Moram had decided that the ideal trainer for John would be Afura herself, and to that end a special Lamp had been designed just for him. It was a bracer in the traditional style, like Afura's or Shayla's, but instead of just one gem it had six. The one at it's center was a white semi-translucent quartz, unlike anything that the other priestesses wore. Arranged around it were five much smaller gems, each a different color.  
The obvious ones were Ruby for fire, Sapphire for water, and Diamond for wind. The other two were Amber and Emerald, used for manipulating light and earth, respectively. While the size of each gem did not necessarily indicate the power it represented, these smaller ones were imbued with a lesser spiritual energy than the normal lamp's.  
The gem in the center was something entirely new, however. It had been determined that John's gift was more than just the simple ability to use the lamps that the more common (but still vanishingly rare) Priestesses had. Not only could he control it, he could augment it through some natural spiritual harmony that no one yet understood. For now it was accepted as the side effect of his trip through the dimensional portal, but if it had existed before his journey...  
That was also the reason for the smaller gems. To keep his powers from becoming too great, the Seminary had reasoned that he would need only a fraction of what was normally provided a priestess when she first accepted her duties. But through the quartz at the center of his lamp, John had in theory the ability to use all of the elemental energies he had been provided, and to combine them with those of another Priestess.  
Of course, this was nothing short of astounding and totally without precedent. And if it had been anyone else, the Seminary would have laughed them out of this dimension all together at the proposal that he be given such monumental power. But, for reasons only she understood, Mother Moram had been adamant that John be trusted totally. She had seen' him, she said, and apparently that was enough. The boy from earth had the potential to become the most singularly powerful magic user of the current generation, and if Moram's other suspicions were correct, his powers would be needed soon enough.  
But that would never be true if he couldn't even be taught to wake up on time. This was the first day of their training together, potentially the most important one of all, and Afura allowed herself to be furious when he finally showed up, hung over and dirty from drinking last night away.  
Well, it's about time. She tried, but couldn't quite keep the petulance out of her voice. Do you know how long I've been waiting out here for you?  
John's thoughts were somewhere else entirely, and when he didn't respond right away Shayla jabbed him hard in the middle of his back.  
he cried out, Watch it! My head still feels like it got ran over.  
Well, you should have thought of that before you sent yourself down the hatch! Afura replied. Then she looked to Fujisawa, And you, I suppose you're responsible? What kind of role model are you really going to make at the Royal Academy when your students find you one day in your office passed out over a bottle?  
Oh, that could never happen, he replied, a little too cheerfully for Afura's taste.  
Oh no? she asked him coldly.  
No, it would take way more than just one bottle to knock me out! He began to laugh noisily, and Makoto and John joined in, almost doubling over in front of her.  
Both Shayla and Qawoor began to back away instinctively, and as Afura began to laugh with them they both ran off around to the other side of the tavern. They knew that laugh, and it wasn't a happy one.  
After a few good seconds the boys stood back up, but then Fujisawa noticed that Afura had been laughing with them.  
Uh oh, he said.  
Afura's voice was carried on the wind, amplified off every surface in the area, which produced a rather stunning stereo effect that would have been quite lovely, had it been amplifying something less totally threatening. How dare you insult a Priestess of Mount Muldoon to her face? This sort of behavior will NOT be tolerated!  
As she finished the winds began to pick up, and soon they were swirling around Makoto and Fujisawa, and as though they were caught in a giant's grasp, they both were lifted off the ground up above the rooftops, and carried away towards the plains in the opposite direction of the Temple Home.  
Through the torrent John cried out, Hey! What'd you do that for? It wasn't their fault! but he could barely be heard.  
They will have quite a day's journey on their hands for this incident, said Afura in that same stereophonic effect, and you will too. You will come to the Temple to receive your lamp, and I advise you to move quickly. You've already wasted enough time.  
With that she took off towards the mountains, and John called after her, What, you mean I have to walk all the way there? but she couldn't hear him at all.  
  


****  


  
No no no NO! Don't put that there! Oh, am I going to have to show you imbeciles how to do EVERYTHING around here?  
Jinnai whacked Harpo over the head with a rock, and Harpo humored his master by rubbing the area like it hurt. Intellectually, Jinnai knew that he had no hope of damaging his soldier's biometallic armor with his puny strength, but it felt good to release a bit of tension.  
They were installing the secondary command center that he would eventually control their first offensive from, deep behind enemy lines but totally hidden from them. Despite the Bugrom's ability to move messages over land with incredible speed, he had felt that the kind of coordination this first strike would require could be better accomplished if he were closer to the action. But he would take no chances with his own security, and the stronghold they were building was totally impenetrable. Not only were there guard posts hidden throughout the tunnels connected to it, there were at least a hundred of Chico's Warlord bugs holed up in here permanently. Add to that the delicate net of sensory antennae he had placed in a two-mile radius around the base and extensive sentries posted at every entrance, and not even he could have found a way to get through it.  
Which was why Kiro's materialization in the middle of the room came as a total shock.  
Their super-sensitive organs noticed him before he became completely solid, but the guards could do nothing to stop him from making it to Jinnai and placing a very evil-looking blade at his throat.  
Call them off, Kiro whispered into Jinnai's ear, and the bare steel in his voice froze Jinnai solid.  
The soldiers continued to advance slowly, and the blade dug in ever so slightly. Jinnai felt the blood trickle down his neck and yelled out in panic, STOP! Stop, you imbeciles! He's going to kill me! STOP!  
The Bugrom were still and silent as statues, and they watched Kiro whisper into their master's ear. Every one of them could hear him, of course, for no matter how low he pitched his voice, if there was the slightest vibration in his vocal cords they were capable of picking it up. Which was what made his infiltration so incredible.  
I am not here to kill you, but you must tell them not to harm me in any way. Do not doubt that I can dispatch you any time I please.  
Jinnai gulped, frozen in terror, but some elemental part of him was able to respond, and he heard his voice (which didn't sound particularly leader-like at this moment) say, don't harm him! Let him be! Ghaaaaak!  
Kiro tightened his grip for just a second to drive the point home, then slipped the knife back into his sleeve and stepped back. All it would take was one wrong move, and...  
He waited, but apparently the Bugrom were obeying their , so he closed his eyes for a second, and began to recite the message he had been tasked to deliver.  
I bring words from the mouths of my elders, from the Great Council of the Phantom Tribe, for the unquestioned leader of the Bugrom armies. The vile Kingdom of Roshtaria has overseen our oppression for generations, and have murdered thousands of Bugrom soldiers to maintain their corrupt rule. While the Tribe does not wish to compare our struggle to the violent tragedy that nearly wiped out your empire, we do at least share a common enemy. Therefore, the Tribe believes that the time has come to put aside any past differences, and form an alliance, one whose might will be unchallenged and will crush the Roshtarian government and all it's peoples into dust.  
Jinnai stood still for a moment, pondering, then addressed Kiro in the tone he normally used for scolding his troops, And just what makes you think that my armies need an alliance with you freaks? My soldiers don't need your help to crush the puny Roshtarian army'! What an insult!  
That's foolish, replied Kiro in a perfectly respectful tone, if your ranks can be broken through once, what's to say it can't be done again? Besides, we have information on your clumsy attempts to dismantle the Trigger of Destruction's weaponry. I can tell you now that you have no chance to succeed.  
Jinnai clenched his fist and yelled back, More insults? Is this how you gained the trust of the Roshtarian people? No wonder you were cast out of society, you're totally without tact! With or without your help I will be the ultimate ruler of El Hazard, and then what's prevent me from crushing you in turn?  
What's to prevent me from killing you where you stand?  
Jinnai gulped, and after a second his response was more measured. You've made your point, but you still haven't answered my question. Why should I ally myself with you people if I can conquer my enemies without your help?  
Kiro stared back at him with well-concealed contempt. It was a wonder this idiot had risen as far as he had without his own troops killing him off! Because if that boy Mizuhara gets Ifurita back, or gets the Eye of God working again, no matter what nifty surprises you've got planned for them they will wipe you out entirely this time.  
The mention of his ancient enemy caused Jinnai to steam slightly despite the chill breeze that blew through his tunnel network, but before he could say anything more, Kiro continued.  
Do you know just how big the Roshtarian Army is?  
Well, our information is a tad less detailed than I would like it to be, Jinnai admitted, making a point to glance in the direction of a handy scoutbug. The bug stepped backwards and cowered behind a Harpo-warrior, and he looked back to Kiro.   
What would you say if I told you that they have already recruited over 80,000 soldiers, and are gaining more at the rate of a hundred every week? Kiro said.  
Jinnai's jaw dropped despite himself. That was over five times the size of their original guard! And if it really was expanding at the rate Kiro had suggested... but then he recovered and replied smugly, So what? My first offensive will take them totally by surprise, and that will be enough to even the odds.  
And if Ifurita should appear before your troops? Would you seriously send them into battle against her power?  
said Jinnai, while I hate to admit it you've got a point there. But what can you do against her? As I recall you couldn't even stop Mizuhara from killing your king.  
Kiro bowed his head and acknowledged the hit. Perhaps nothing now. But if our scientists could discover the secrets of the Eye of God with the limited access we had, imagine what we could learn from the Trigger if we had it in our possession.  
Jinnai laughed out loud. HA! Do you really expect me to hand over the most powerful weapon ever built just so you could use it against me? How foolish do you think I am?  
Kiro chose not to answer the second question; it just wouldn't do for the messenger to kill the intended recipient, no matter how much he may have deserved it. So he answered the first one instead. Of course we don't expect you to give it to us. But arrangements could be made to allow us to study it while it is in your care.  
A thoughtful expression crossed the face of the student-cum-megalomaniacle ruler, and he said to himself, I suppose we could keep the labs guarded heavily enough to make sure that nothing got out. And that kind of weaponry fully at our disposal would be nice to have as a backup. Humph. Addressing Kiro again, he said, allright, I'll consider your proposal carefully. Of course, I'll have to consult Diva about this, but I suspect that Makoto Mizuhara is about to get a very nasty surprise. Waaahh ha ha ha ha ha ha wah ha ha ha ha!


	6. Practice makes perfect

::Chapter Six::  
  


Argh, you're going to blast the whole royal compound! Here, watch me carefully.  
Shayla-Shayla turned John around by his shoulders to face the opposite direction, towards the mountains, and stepped back. Nanami stepped back as well, and her face wore an expression of tolerance as Shayla prepared to demonstrate her prowess yet again. While she understood the reasoning behind her own presence, that hadn't prevented Nanami from being bored silly two days into John's training. At least his stay in the Temple Home had been mercifully short, she reminded herself.  
Shayla began to glow a fiery orange-red, and John could hear and feel the raw power of the energies she was drawing to her command, and for a second it frightened him. But she was in total control of them, and his bones resonated with the force of the blast she sent hurtling into the air, well above and beyond any population centers.  
They were practicing on a range just outside the walls of Floristica, on the southwestern side of the city where there was very little usable soil. Due to an odd geographic arrangement, an underground granite formation blocked off a good section of the land in this area from the surrounding water table, with the result that while moist from the rains, the soil here was devoid of almost any and all nutrients. On the weekends it was a popular hiking spot, but the residents of Floristica had long ago learned that Shayla liked using it for practicing her techniques where no one else could be harmed. Which was much more preferable than practicing in the middle of the city, as she had often done in the past.  
But John had been facing the city when he had started to the term given to the moment of concentration required to form the spiritual energies of the lamp into a coherent external force. The past week had been spent entirely on this concept, and while he had learned enough about his own abilities to no longer trigger the lamps by accident, John was still a bit confused about the methods for controlling them.  
As he watched, Shayla's fireball fell in the distance and detonated with a roar of superheated air and dirt, and she turned to him and said flippantly, Now you do it.  
He snorted in response. As though it were that easy! But he was resigned to follow her instructions since Afura was tending the Muldoon Temple today. Not that being forced to work with Shayla instead was necessarily a bad thing, but to her credit she was doing an excellent job of explaining the basics. They seemed to have found some common wavelength right off, and John suspected that it had something to do with their shared dislike of authority. He'd come to see most of his new acquaintances as a good friends these past few weeks, but the only one he didn't seem to be able to connect with was Afura. She seemed to be embarrassed about the duty that Mother Moram had imposed on her, and John couldn't figure out if it was because she knew he liked her, or if she thought it was beneath her station, somehow, to train him.  
Shayla continued, you shouldn't really be thinking about what you're doing. It's instinctual; there's no set methods for achieving a desired effect. Just envision it happening.  
John nodded to himself, then turned to face the fields. He raised his right hand - the one with the six-jeweled lamp on it's wrist - and placed his left one over the ruby set into it. He'd established this early on as a way to help him concentrate on just one effect, and not activate all of the gems simultaneously. The first disastrous experience with that had been enough.  
He began to glow himself, at first a pale reflection of the energies Shayla had gathered, but they grew steadily and within a few seconds, his aura was twice the size hers had been. Then, with a roar that must have shook the bones of the earth they were standing on, he let loose, and a peircingly-bright ball of flame shot from his hand leaving a trail of red behind it. It flew to the point on the horizon where Shayla's fireball had exploded, and sent a cloud of flame and debris into the air that towered over her own effort.  
When the rubble had finished falling, John looked over at his teacher. Shayla stood there, eyeing the horizon admiringly, and her head turned toward him.  
That wasn't half bad, there. Let's try something else. She smiled wickedly, and some deep instinct told John to back up a few steps. Nanami followed his example and watched nervously.  
They both saw Shayla gather for a few seconds, but this time the energy of her aura leapt straight up into the air, and as it began to take shape he could see her concentrating on making it ever more powerful. A giant red phoenix appeared above her, as tall as the Royal Palace itself, and as Shayla yelled with all her might it roared out of the sky and struck the ground with terrifying force.  
The ravaged across the landscape, tearing up earth and what little patches of grass and desert foliage had managed to scrape out an existence here, and it left a trail of flame wherever it passed. John looked at her, and the effort and energy she was putting into this demonstration frightened him. Her concentration was total, and as she moved her hands the phoenix changed it's course in turn. After fully a minute their fury was spent, and Shayla collapsed beside John in exhaustion. Nanami caught her before she hit the ground, and as she looked out over the destruction Shayla had wrought, Nanami said gently, Um, I think you overdid it.  
I should say so, said Afura from behind them. Nanami and John yelped in unison as her intrusion startled them. An ash-black path twenty meters across was clearly visible from their vantage point, and it twisted across the land like some half-crazed snake.  
I should have known she would pull something like this. Poor Shayla, you can always count on her for a good show, that's for sure. I guess I simply can't trust her to be on her own for five minutes without nearly killing herself, she continued in her best scolding voice.  
The acid in her tone was too much, and John spun around and yelled back, Hey, she was just trying to show me what the extent of her own abilities was! How can I base my own techniques on yours if I don't know what you're capable of?  
His question caught Afura off guard; it made good sense in hindsight, so why hadn't she considered it before? But before she could respond, Nanami looked up from a half-conscious Shayla and added her own rebuke.  
Yeah Afura, you know you're awful hard on her. I know the two of you are friends, but that's no reason to ridicule her in front of a student. I know my sensei would never criticize another teacher in front of the students no matter how much he deserved it.  
Afura was stunned. They were right, and she knew it; there was a line between friendly jabbing and harsh condemnation, and she'd just crossed it. But what was more disconcerting was that this boy had called her on the carpet for it, and she stifled her instinct to yell back at the both of them for contradicting her that way. She was terribly conflicted between the need to be harsh in her discipline yet understanding of her charge, and she suddenly felt far too junior for what Moram had forced her into.  
But the Headmistress had demonstrated a positive knack for knowing when to push her own students, and when to back off, and she hadn't assigned Afura as John's keeper by pulling her name from a hat. So instead of simply biting back, she calmed herself and came to grips with her own ambiguous feelings, and this time addressed John with respect.  
You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so harsh. But the truth remains that her little demonstration was extremely dangerous, and no matter how well you think you're doing, you're not ready to try something like that, she said.  
John's temporary flash of anger left him, and he nodded assent. Their eyes met, and he thought he sensed some sort of recognition on her part, an acknowledgment of his rectitude. He smiled at her, and said, well, I think I've had enough demonstrations' for one day. Whadda ya say we head back to the palace?  
Afura shook her head slightly, then looked at Nanami, and asked, can you make it back to the city allright? There's one more thing I want to do today, but I think we'll be perfectly safe for now.  
Nanami started to say something indignant, but just then Shayla sat up.  
Ugh, I think I overdid it, she said weakly, and Nanami couldn't help but laugh. John and Afura joined her, and Shayla's face flushed as she turned away from them.  
John squatted down next to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and between giggles said, I think you can consider me duly impressed.  
His face was too mischievous to be angry at, so she smiled at him and said as she stood up, Yeah, well, don't you dare let me catch you copying my techniques! There's nothing that gets on my nerves more than a copycat!  
Afura stepped up to her at that point. Can you take Nanami back to town for me? There's one more demonstration I want John to see.  
Shayla nodded, and said, sure, no problem. We've got to stop somewhere for some food, though. I'm starving! As if to confirm this, her stomach growled audibly.  
Nanami chuckled again. Sure, I know a great place just inside of town!  
The two of them walked off together, chatting about this and that, and John turned to Afura. So what's this big thing I've just got to see? he asked her.  
Her cheeks heated unexpectedly at his question. I uh, well, that is, she said weakly, and he turned up his scrutiny just a notch. What was she embarrassed about?  
Put your arms around me, she managed to say perfectly seriously, and it was John's turn to be embarrassed.  
Uh, can I ask why?  
You wanted to see what we're capable of? Well, unless you wanted to try and follow me up on your own... she asked, and pointed a finger upwards.  
John caught his breath for a second. Intellectually he knew that she could fly; as a Priestess of Wind, she'd damn well better be able to. But it was really something that had to be experienced to be believed, and despite his momentary hesitation John felt his adrenaline begin to rush as the seriousness of her proposal registered.  
It took a second, but then his face lit up like a spotlight and his grin seemed to reach around from one ear to the other. He exclaimed and all the awkwardness between them disappeared as he put his arms around her waist and clamped his hands in front of her, and they took off into the clear blue sky together.  
  
It had been all of eight days since John had returned from his mysterious ordeal at the Temple Home. To allow him, as well as the rest of the Great Priestesses to attend, Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony had been placed on hold' temporarily, which had given the poor Dean of the Royal History Academy a serious case of the hives. But Mr. Fujisawa had taken the opportunity to scale two peaks he'd had his eyes on ever since he'd come to El Hazard, and this time Miz and Mika had gone with him.  
Nanami had placed her restaurant in the hands of her best manager, and while he was competent with the business side of things, he lacked the flair for cooking and the customer service that had made the original Shinonome Diner such a staple among the residents of Floristica. Unfortunately, Nanami was permanently on loan to Afura while John was being trained in the use of the lamps, although she took every chance she had to stop by and check up on things. And while it was a far cry from Tom's Diner back home, John admitted that this was probably the only earth food he'd be eating for the foreseeable future, so he'd learned to enjoy their frequent visits.  
The three priestesses were totally engaged with his training. When Afura wasn't drilling him relentlessly on the history and technical aspects of their beliefs, Shayla was showing him the practical applications of her powers, and Qawoor was teaching him how to maintain spiritual balance and harmony with the elements he was learning about. If he wasn't meditating with her, blowing up bits of the landscape with Shayla, or reading along with Afura, he was sleeping or eating. And so very little was seen of him or Nanami around the palace while they were thus engaged.  
Princess Rune seemed to have found something to do while the preparations for Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony were on hold; she was slowly but steadily working her way into the slot of Palace Majordomo. While it was literally unheard of for a member of the royal house to engage herself in such menial activities as washing bed sheets or cooking, Rune had been insistent that the army of servants she commanded allow her to participate in the day-to-day operations of her home. Whenever anyone asked her why she'd taken such an interest in homemaking, her eyes glazed over and she became unresponsive.  
And while her sister was busy occupying herself, Fatora had begun to take a more active role in the external politics of the kingdom. As a child she had been briefed on the importance of diplomacy and maintaining the delicate relationships between the royal family and the system of independent steadings' which had flourished under Roshtarian rule for the past few millennia. But she'd always left the details to Rune, whom she assumed had been the more capable of the two of them.  
That was the old Fatora, however, and while she'd been sitting at one of the seemingly endless formal occasions' which it was her curse to attend for the rest of measurable time, she'd had a sudden realization; the meetings were so _dull_ because not one of the diplomats here were distinguishable from the others. Individuality and assertiveness Fatora had in reserve, and so she'd decided to solve this minor dilemma by taking over negotiations herself.  
The first time she'd done this, the results had been, well, less than desirable. Not only had her interruption in the middle of the talks alienated her own diplomatic corps, her method of resolving the conflict, while effective, had caused the opposing sides to sign a treaty that they would never enter into conflict again so long as Fatora was the Royal House's chief negotiator.   
Her initial success had spurred her on, despite the pointed hints every member of the corps and even her own sister had dropped. But Rune and Dr. Stalubaugh had come to the conclusion that if she was not to be stopped forcibly, the least they could do was school her on proper diplomatic protocol, and so he had been sent along with her when the dispute over mining rights had sprung up between the steadings of Caldan and Ohn.  
All this explained why the only person available to help Makoto with his latest project was poor Alielle. Since he'd gotten back from the Temple with John, Londs had enlisted him for the task of figuring out how the car' could be used to enhance the capabilities of their Army. With the Eye of God temporarily forgotten, Makoto had thrown himself into this new challenge with relish, grateful for anything that would distract him from his failures there.  
They sat in one of the drafting rooms that was used by the royal engineers to maintain the cruiser fleet, situated in the primary maintenance building attached to the Main Hanger. The room had been designated specifically for Makoto's use, and amongst all the blueprints and maintenance equipment was a high-powered scientific calculator set into a drafting table, and a full set of drawing and drafting tools. Londs had also installed a small cot and a teapot, since Makoto's propensity for working past exhaustion was well known.  
He was chewing slowly on a pencil over his latest concept when Alielle walked into the room.  
Master, it's time for lunch! she announced, but all the acknowledgment she got was a sort of grunt from his general direction. He was obviously concentrating hard, so she decided that a more forceful approach was necessary.  
Alielle picked the lid off the lunch tray she'd brought, walked up to Makoto and hit him in the back of his oafish head, causing him to spit out his pencil.  
I said it's time for lunch! You're never going to get anything done if you starve yourself, so put down that pencil and start eating right now! she yelled, and set the tray down on the small coffee table next to his cot.  
Makoto turned around, rubbing the new lump forming slowly on his skull. Allright, allright, I'll eat, he said to her apologetically, and he walked over to the cot and sat down. On the tray was a freshly tossed salad, some fruit, and an assortment of cheeses and bread that looked like the Palace Chef himself had arranged it.  
Wow, this looks great Alielle, thanks! he said, and she beamed sweetly at him as he dug into his food. Then she looked over at his drafting table curiously, and asked him, So Master Makoto, just what are you working on now?  
He looked up from his salad, and said between mouthfuls, Well, I don't think we have the resources to produce a rotary engine, but with a few modifications, the block from John's car could be used as propulsion for a small aircraft. I found a few old diagrams of a sailcraft that the ancients used during the Holy Wars. If it works, we could build a fighter jet that wouldn't require a runway to take off or land!  
Alielle's expression was confused. Fighter Jet? she asked.  
Yeah. You see, in every war on earth since the turn of the century, small aircraft called fighter planes have played a very important role. They're small and incredibly fast, and can drop precision strikes on military targets without endangering anyone else's lives. But until now, Roshtaria hasn't had the means to make them practical. His enthusiasm was obvious, but Alielle had adopted the patient expression she used whenever he went off on one of his technical tangents, and she simply smiled and nodded as he continued.  
But I think I've figured out how to increase the efficiency of his old engine and use it to power a single jet engine that could provide enough thrust to make a small one-main sail-cruiser the fastest flying craft that Roshtaria has ever seen! Look, I'll show you... He'd stopped eating totally now, and Alielle glanced pointedly at the remaining salad before she'd let him continue.  
Makoto sat down obediently and ate the rest of his lunch in silence. The second his fork hit the empty plate though he was back up and at his desk, making very precise marks on his tablet and mumbling to himself quietly. Alielle sighed and turned to the book she'd been reading to pass the time, and the two passed the rest of the day in studied silence.  
  
This, this is incredible! Londs exclaimed when Makoto finished with his presentation. It had been only five days since Londs had asked him to help with the designing of new weaponry, and already he had brought the final designs before the Royal Bureau of Weapons. And the craft he was proposing they build was nothing short of revolutionary to Roshtarian thinking.  
The sail cruisers that were such an integral part of their travel network between steadings operated on well-understood principals. The sails' created a negative-gee force that allowed whatever was supported by it to float over the ground. But they had always been used in large-scale craft, and the sails themselves were incredibly delicate and difficult to maintain. Thus the Royal family, and a very few wealthy merchants were the only ones who could afford to use the cruisers with any regularity. Smaller, more personalized transports were not unheard of, but again they required a great deal of money to operate and thus were only used along highly profitable routes, such as the path to the Arliman Hot Springs, and then only in limited numbers.  
The sails also provided very little foreword thrust, and their overland speed had been limited to no more than 120 kph, at most. And the energy requirements for something the size of a royal cruiser were tremendous, to say the least.  
But the craft Makoto had designed was a breed removed from the lumbering _Caravan_s. By trimming all of the deck space from a traditional cruiser, reducing the size of it's sails by a factor of two, and leaving on just enough fuel bunkerage for a limited endurance of no more than five hours' flight time, he'd managed to create something not much bigger than an F-14 fighter.  
The teardrop-shaped pilot's pod was just big enough to squeeze someone into, and the controls were familiar enough to any cruiser pilot, with one tactile-interface pad and a readout display. The craft was capable of flight in it's own right, but would have been limited in altitude and speed where it not for the internal combustion engine' that Makoto had built into it.  
While the notion of shifting gears in an airplane seemed downright backwards to him, for the Roshtarians it was simply part and parcel of adapting a new technology to their own framework. The single jet engine, with the intake on the top of the pilot's cockpit bubble, would provide enough foreword thrust for the craft to reach upwards of 400-550 kph, and enough lift for the sails to provide it with more than one hundred times a normal cruisers' maximum altitude. Of course, they were still dreadfully limited when compared to the fighters Makoto was basing his design on, and their reliance on good atmospheric conditions limited their flight ceiling considerably, but by and large they were far more capable than anything the Air Corps had at it's command, and he was already working on improving the design.  
Well, there's actually just one slight problem with it, Makoto responded, and Londs looked at him questioningly.  
Most of the parts we need for the new design already exist, it's just a matter of modifying them correctly. But the engine is another story. You don't have anything else like it in all your kingdom, and it's going to take time to build them from scratch. I don't really know much about them, besides, so you're going to have to rely on John to teach you how to build them.   
Much to his surprise, Londs merely nodded. We anticipated that whatever else came from it, this engine would have to be replicated, and I've had my engineers laying out the necessary equipment for the past several weeks. But you are correct that we cannot even remove it, much less reengineer it. We will have to have John's assistance. Makoto, his tone became much more serious and, Makoto thought, tinged with the just the slightest hint of respect, on behalf of her majesty Rune Venus, and all the people of Roshtaria, I thank you for what you have accomplished. This craft is nothing less than a revolution, and I have total confidence that you will succeed in building it for us.  
Makoto blushed at the compliment, but then he extended his hand to Londs, and the much larger man accepted it gracefully.  
Aww, don't mention it. It was the least I could do while I was here, said Makoto. For the prototype at least, I think we can use the actual engine from John's Mustang. He'll have to help us remove it, of course, but after that there's another issue.  
What is that? asked Londs.  
Makoto looked back at Alielle, who had been standing behind him this whole time with stacks of presentation materials.  
We're gonna need a test pilot.  
  


****  


  
It had been a long day.  
Diva and Jinnai were relaxing in the ready room just behind the thrones they ruled the Bugrom Empire from. He had returned from his inspection tour of their tunnel network with some startling news, and a rather unexpected visitor. Diva knew very well that the Phantom Tribe had no respect for her armies, but that was fine, since she had no respect for their weak and fledgling nation either. She had been ready to turn the wraith' away immediately, but Jinnai had stopped her from dismissing him out of hand.  
Which, she admitted, was probably wiser in the long run. While she would never care to admit it, her empire was still relatively weak itself, and any strategic alliances that were made at this point could only be beneficial. But her skepticism for the Tribe's motives was plain on her face as she sighed and addressed her general.  
I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Katsuhiko. We can't be sure that they won't turn around on our eve of victory and backstab us. I don't think I'm willing to take that risk.  
Look, Diva, said Jinnai, if we don't crush Roshtaria completely, they will surely destroy us. That blasted Mizuhara would never pass up the chance to ensure that my superiority could never get in his way again. And while I would never suggest that the Bugrom Empire wasn't capable of crushing them, I like our chances better with the Phantom Tribe's abilities on our side. Just think of what we could accomplish if the enemy couldn't even see our troops when we're right in front of their ugly faces!  
Diva threw her mug of tea right at his feet, and he yelped in alarm as she put as much authority into her voice as she could muster. It won't matter if we win or not if we're not even there to enjoy our victory. Are you so certain of your ability to control these allies'? Their messenger got through our strongest fortifications with ease; what makes you think that they wouldn't do that again to dispatch us?  
Her fury at his shortsightedness was real, but brief, and when he responded his voice wore that smug self-assurance it always seemed to.  
Well then, my dear, we'll just have to take out an insurance policy, won't we? And I think there's one sitting just across the room.  
His eyes turned meaningfully towards the small cell' on the other side of the throne room, where Kiro was being kept under constant guard until there was a message to send back to the Phantom Tribe, and his smile was ugly.  
  


****  


  
You want to WHAT?  
Their plan had made perfect sense to John. Until the point, that is, where he had detailed the necessity of taking his beautiful car apart bit by bit. And not just dismantling her, but tearing her very heart right out, the meticulously detailed 289 V8 he and his father had rebuilt to factory specs. Even the spark plug wires were stock, for heavens sake, and Makoto wanted to hook up a completely different electrical system to it!  
To his credit Makoto had proposed this, this Frankenstein-like operation with a straight face, so he obviously didn't know how much it meant to John. Makoto had never driven, much less owned a car of his own before he was thrown into El Hazard, and John was willing to forgive him for this fact.  
Do you even realize how much effort I put into getting that engine compartment to look as spotless as it is? I've had to keep those damned Royal Security' engineers from taking her apart behind my back ever since I got here, and now you want me to help you gut her? No Way! I'll help you draw up the plans for your own version of that engine, but removing it is out of the question. John crossed his arms and nodded, and Makoto hid a sigh.  
The two of them were standing in one of the innumerable gardens that circled the palace walls, and Nanami was sitting by a fountain swirling her hand in the waters distractedly. Whenever the boys talked shop she tended to tune it out, and Makoto felt a pang of sympathy for her situation. It couldn't be easy to sit idly by and wait for disaster -in the form of a Phantom Tribe assassin- to strike, which was about the only time her abilities would be useful. And while he could understand the Headmistress's concerns, he also couldn't help but feel that she was overreacting just a bit. After all, the Tribe hadn't been heard from once since their defeat at the Eye of God. What made her so sure that they'd show up after all this time just to steal away one teenage boy?  
But we need to experiment with a new fuel mixture, to make sure we can even run it once the gas in your tank runs out. At this comment John shot him a very nasty look indeed, and he rushed to continue before he could turn that look into a very nasty insult.  
Please, John, they're desperate for anything they can use to make sure the Bugrom don't conquer their kingdom. You may not understand this very well, since the United States never lost a war. But these people nearly lost everything, and we've got to do everything we can to make sure it doesn't happen again! You just have to let us do this!  
John's expression of defiance broke slightly at the obvious depth of feeling in Makoto's pleas. He put his hands into his pockets - the pockets of the special pants he'd had made that were exactly the same as his others - and sighed in resignation.  
Yeah, I guess you're right, he said, and Makoto's eyes lit up, but there's no way you guys are doing a single thing without my supervision! Besides, I know all the tools we're gonna need, and we'd better get started finding suitable replacements.  
Makoto smiled and nodded a thanks, then looked over to the fountain. Hey, Nanami, we've got to go down to the East Gallery. Was there anything you wanted to do while we were here?  
She got up slowly and walked over to them. No, that's okay. Thanks for asking, though. There's really nothing I can do for the restaraunt while I'm stuck here. Her voice carried a distinctly sour note in in, and John walked up and put hand on her shoulder.  
Look, I know there are a million other things you'd rather be doing than playing babysitter to me, he began, but I really appreciate it. I don't know how much of a danger the Phantom Tribe' is, but I guess until I get good enough with this thing- he lifted the hand which had his lamp, which he had promised never to remove until this threat was over -I need all the help I can get. Oh, wait a minute...  
He looked up at nothing in particular, obviously thinking deeply about something, and almost a full minute passed before Nanami broke his concentration.  
WELL? What is it? she demanded.  
he looked surprised that he'd been spoken to, I was just thinking, why couldn't a Priestess of Light watch out for assassins?  
Makoto's interest was piqued at this revelation. I didn't know there were more than the three Muldoon Priestesses. What do all of them do?  
John gulped, and a horrified expression crossed his face. He'd just inadvertantly spilled one of the biggest secrets of the entire Seminary. All the literature on the Holy Wars that existed outside of the Temple contained a very carefully edited version of the Temple's involvment in them. The official line was that there were Three Priestesses, one for each of the common elements, and they were there for the public to believe in. They were the ones who tended the temple on Mt. Muldoon, the only holy site accessible to the common folk, and as far as the public had ever known they were the only three to come from the Seminary.  
The reasoning behind this was easy enough to understand; the less the public knew, the more likely they were to leave the rest of the Priestesses alone. There was a tragic history in the Temple lore of power sought or hated by the wrong people, and the incredbile secrets they harbored could not be allowed to fall into the hands of those who would use these powers for evil. The more modern example of Jinnai or the Phantom Tribe came readily to mind, but of the two the only ones to even learn of the Temple's true role in the history of Roshtaria was the Tribe. It was they who had attempted to break down the walls of the Temple in search of their secrets, and it was still they whom the Seminary feared would attempt the same thing again.  
But in order to keep this as tight a secret as possible, John had sworn never to reveal the fact that there were other Priestesses to anyone. If that knowledge became public, then the Tribe's spies would pick up on it too easily, and the less they knew, the better.  
The reason that John had been given the two stones of Light and Earth was easily explainable; everyone knew he was from earth, and that meant that he had powers above and beyond anyone else. But he'd just slipped on a secret of immense importance, and his expression was severe as he grabbed each of his friends by the arm and walked them over to a dimly-lit corner of the courtyard.  
Now listen, he said to them in hushed and urget tones, no one outside the Temple knows that there's more to it than the three Muldoon Priestesses. That's to remain a secret; don't even let the three of them know that you know. It's vitally important that you keep your mouths shut on this one. Understand?  
Both their eyes were wide with curiosity and apprehension. He was obviously deadly serious, but just as Nanami opened her mouth to speak he said, So, let's get going, huh? I wanna turn in early tonight, and smiled politely as he walked away.


	7. Just a dream

::Chapter Seven::  
  


Rune's grin was broader than a barn as the final curtain was hung over the hors d'ouver table. The dean of the Royal Roshtarian Academy of History had finally made it clear that no more delays were to be accepted; Mr. Fujisawa could be admitted in four days, or not at all. Rune felt genuine sympathy for the poor man, since Mr. Fujisawa was already far behind the other professors in preparing for the next academic season.  
But Nanami had been slated to take the lead in preparing the catering for the ceremony and the attendant ball, and since she was tied up at the moment (and would no doubt require a good deal of time to get her own restaraunt back in order when she finally shook herself free) Rune had seized the opportunity, and declared that she would be in charge of the decorating and food preparations.  
Her announcement had quite frankly taken the palace by complete surprise, and when word had leaked to the rest of the population of Floristica, the entire city had been abuzz with the news. Contrary to the fears of her own councilors, public opinion of the princess had gone up, apparently because the commoners felt that this was an excellent first step towards making the Royal House more approachable and in touch with the common affairs of the realm. Until now, the family had been as a stone edifice, reliable and strong but coldly impersonal. And even after all this time, the only people who really knew what had brought this change about were Afura Mann and Mr. and Mrs. Fujisawa.  
A servant came up to the princess and asked for her signature, authorizing the expense of hiring a professional band of musicians for the afterwards celebrations. She glanced it over, then dashed her name across the bottom line on the paper, and walked over to the bandstand to check it's construction.  
The entire scene was still somewhat chaotic. Everywhere she glanced there were movers, gardeners, servants, cleaners, and a dozen others moving around her in what almost looked like some incredibly intricate dance. They were careful to give the princess plenty of room, and she reveled in her unspoilt sense of accomplishment for a few seconds before another servant came up to her to ask where the roses should be placed on the dinner tables.  
  
Almost immediately after Fatora stepped off the cruiser and onto the landing tarmac Alielle had her arms around her, sqealing in delight.  
Oh, Fatora my love, I've missed you so much! You were gone for two whole days longer than you said you'd be! You almost missed the ceremony!  
They kissed, a long, deep, passionate exchange that made the baggage carriers and engineers that had come out to take care of the cruiser blush. Fatora simply smiled at her diminutive lover, then put one arm around her and walked towards the reception bay in the South Gallery. Two palace guards appeared, seemingly from the shadows, and walked behind the pair at a respectful distance. Then Fatora noted the distinct lack of a reception party, normally a never-to-be-missed formality after such a high-profile diplomatic mission, and she arched an eyebrow quizzically.  
Hey Alielle, I know that there's just a few days to go before Mr. Fujisawa's big party, but why isn't anyone else here?  
Alielle looked up at her. Oh, well, Sir Londs is going crazy trying to arrange the security for the ceremony, and your sister Princess Rune is busy making the final arrangements for the catering...  
Rune's doing what? Fatora interrupted, obviously taken aback. She'd know that Rune had started doing her own dishes, but she'd obviously been doing a lot more than that while Fatora was away.  
She's planning the entire ceremony. The whole kingdom's been talking about it. I'm surprised you didn't hear anything from the other diplomats. Alielle replied.  
Fatora grunted. The other diplomats don't really talk to me, unless it's to tell me what a wonderful job you're doing Princess!' and that's a brilliant idea, Princess!' Before now I'd thought it was a diplomat's job to compliment himself!  
Alielle nearly doubled over in laughter, and Fatora supported her as they walked into the reception area and over to the always-stocked courtesy refreshment bar. Fatora poured two drinks herself and sat at one of the ornate deck tables.  
Alielle sat down next to her, and said, So tell me, love, what was it like? I've heard that Crestin has the most beautiful beaches on all the mainland.  
Fatora nodded, and a familiar smirk crossed her face. Exactly! I knew that if we held negotiations in a less formal setting, the delegates would be more receptive to following my commands. So I had a tent set up right on the tip of the penninsula, in the middle of the White Sands Beach, and that got em loosened right up. You would've loved it; there's also no laws against nudity down there.  
Alielle giggled and squirmed in her seat, and her expression matched Fatora's perfectly.  
  
Mika had spontaneously developed a nasty cold, which showed all the signs of lasting well into the next few days, but this wasn't totally unexpected.  
Masamichi was spending the afternoon -as he'd spent every one since returning from the Temple- in his new office at the Royal Academy, furiously drawing up lesson plans for the next semester of instruction, so his absence wasn't totally unexpected.  
Which meant that Miz was left to care for Mika alone today, which, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite seem to feel was a burden. She was just getting her afternoon snack ready, in fact, when Qawoor came a knocked on her door, which was completely unexpected.  
Come in! yelled Miz from the kitchen, and Mika sqeaked in delight and exclaimed, Auntie Kwawool!  
Why hello, Mika! How are you? Qawoor stepped into the living room and stooped to recieve the bundle of energy and germs that had run straight for her, and Mika stopped short and looked at her sullenly.  
I sick, she said sadly, and Qawoor looked up as Miz came around the corner carrying a plate with some bread and fresh fruit on it, and she smiled a hello as Miz called her charge over to the small dining table in the corner.  
Oh hello, Qawoor. Mikahime, come eat your fruit. The girl looked at Qawoor, then looked outside longingly, and turned around and goosestepped over to the table.  
Qawoor stood. Hello, Misses Miz. How are you?  
Oh, just fine, just fine! she replied. What brings you by here today? I thought you were working with John on that new lamp of his.  
Qawoor picked her way carefully over the wreckage of toys that poor Miz had been trying valiantly to keep Mika entertained with, and sat down on a free corner of the couch. Oh we have, and he's getting quite good at it, too. Afura thinks he'll be ready to start training on his own very soon. But, I came this afternoon to ask you for, uh, advice. She looked down at her feet sheepishly and blushed every so slightly, and Miz came over and sat down next to her.  
What kind of advice, dear? she asked, and put her hand out to stop Qawoor's fidgiting.  
she continued, Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony is just a few days away, and, well, I want to know how I should ask someone to go with me. She stammered to a finish, and her blush grew deeper as Miz laughed at her request.  
Why, Qawoor, you wouldn't be thinking of asking Makoto, would you?  
The poor girl was completely crushed, and her eyes nearly filled with tears before Miz could reassure her.  
Oh, oh dear, I didn't mean it like that at all! she exclaimed, I think it's a perfectly lovely idea! Of course I can give you advice, but you know my darling Masamichi was quite a hard case. I had to use all kinds of methods to get him to notice me, and... she trailed off and her eyes glazed over, obviously recalling something of her past conquest. Qawoor had to clear her throat before Miz would continue.  
Oh, I'm sorry, my mind must've wandered. As I was saying, it helps if the object of your affections is a strong, brave, romantic superhero-teacher, but I'm sure there's a few tricks I could show you. Why don't we check out my old makeup kit? I've got some nail polish that'd go perfectly with your hair.  
Qawoor smiled. Thank you so much for understanding, I was so afraid you'd think I was just being silly!  
Miz stood and turned to Mika sitting at the table. Mika, we're going to play dress-up! Come along!  
The little girl yelled and lept from her chair, illness completely forgotten for the present, and the trio disappeard into the bathroom.  
  


****  


  
Noisy bugs.  
That was about the most polite thing on Nahato's mind as he stood waiting for the Burgom party to arrive. Their laughable attempt at stealth had obviously been meant to impress him, but the Tribe's scouts had picked up their approach in plenty of time to organize an official reception party. If that madman Jinnai thought he was going to get away with this scott-free, then he was sadly mistaken.  
_In fact,_ though Nahato, _I might just take the pleasure of killing him myself, if the guards don't take it upon themselves to do it for me._  
Kiro had been instructed to wait no more than two days before returning with word; it had been three before the Bugrom had been spotted moving towards their hideout. How they'd managed to figure out where Kiro had been supposed to return to, Nahato hadn't the slightest clue. They either had far better scouts than they had let on, or had forced the information from Kiro by some means. Either way, it demonstrated that the Bugrom weren't entirely incompetent, and Nahato had ordered their own scouting patrols doubled, just in case Jinnai had some silly show of force planned.  
The council, of course, had hemmed and hawed for almost an hour before deciding how to deal with this slap in the face, but at least they had allowed him to execute it. He had set up small four-man divisions of guards in strategic places all in front of the main enterance to their mountain stronghold, and held a reserve of twenty men behind him. Those small teams could be routed quickly and quietly, and were in mutual support range of each other. At his call, Nahato could have all fifty-two of them encircle the clearing that had been widened to give his sniper archers a clear shot at anyone who stood in it.  
In order to safeguard their isolation the Tribe had established strict rules about what weapons and defenses could be used in the event of an attack. Their plasma-based laser rifles were unfortunately noisy and flashy, which made their use an unacceptable risk. They'd so far managed to hide from the Roshtarian forces and those accursed Priestesses from the Temple, but for the time being they were reduced to using more silent, albeit primitive means. Besides, they didn't have to kill all the Bugrom soldiers, just Jinnai.  
There! They'd obviously detected the scouts that had been trailing them, as all pretense of stealth was forgotten and the giant insects trampled their way through the undergrowth. The small band emerged from the woods into the clearing, and Nahato could hardly believe what his eyes were showing him. That over-confident idiot Jinnai was sitting on top of a platform, carried by five of those purple soldiers. Why, Nahato could whisper one word and have all him killed instantly!  
But he hid his disbelief behind an iron mask of self control, and stepped foreward into the clearing himself to address the maniac he had proposed an alliance with.  
You will not go unpunished for this treachery, he said with perfect sincerity, and Jinnai's smirk cracked ever so slightly at his tone.  
The first rule of negotiation; don't make a deal until you have the upper hand. Don't tell me that you expected me to address myself solely to a mere messanger. Ha! If you want something done, go directly to the source, that's what my old sensei used to teach me. Of course, he'll be wishing he'd never taught me about World War II in such detail, because unlike Hitler, I've got the forces necessary to conquer the world and make the Kingdom of Roshtaria fall to it's knees and beg for mercy. With or without your help I'll still become God of this world, but your offer does intrigue me. I'm willing to discuss an alliance, if you're ready to submit youselves to my rule.  
_Good lord, what a windbag_. Nahato didn't appear to move a muscle, but a sudden rush of air past the small boy's face was all the warning Groucho needed to know that he'd ordered his leader shot at. With a deftness that surprised every Phantom Tribe guard there, the big purple guardbug snatched the crossbow bolt out of the air before it even got close to the platform Jinnai sat on, and as Nahato's face went pale with surprise the other four bugs straightened up suddenly, and a smaller, pale blue bug emerged from each of their backs. The smaller bugs took up the duty of supporting the platform, and the larger bugs lept onto it and formed a solid wall around their leader.  
Jinnai laughed in a way that made Nahato cringe, and then he said, Don't talk to me about treachery! I knew the Phantom Tribe wasn't trustworthy, and so I made sure to pay close attention to the second rule of negotiation; expect betrayal. Now, are we ready to talk yet?  
Just as he finished speaking the clearing was suddeny empty, and he was alone. Not even his troops were beside him, and Jinnai forced himself to breathe calmly as he recognized the illusion the Tribe was weaving for him.  
Troops, blindfolds on! he commanded, and the smaller bugs obidiently set the platform down, and all of them tied the small peice of cloth around their visual organs. Intellectually, Jinnai knew that his troops were still surrounding him, but it was disconcerting when he couldn't see them following his orders. Then a Tribe warrior appeared in the clearing, and with a great yell he charged Jinnai, weapon glistening.  
Despite himself Jinnai yelped in horror, but instead of running as his instincts commanded him to, he merely crouched down and put his arms over his head, just in case it was real.  
The warrior came within a few steps of him and slashed down with his spear, and Jinnai tensed up as the blow his mind expected came for him, and passed harmlessly through his body.  
Jinnai looked up, and the warrior-illusion was still there. It slashed through him a few more times in sheer frustration, and a few dozen more bolts bounced off his troops as the snipers took potshots at him. But then Jinnai began to laugh again, and he heard Nahato's voice call out   
The illusions vanished, and Jinnai was once again surrounded by his guards. He stood up, brushed some imaginary dirt off his coat, and fixed his gaze on Nahato.  
Nahato smiled politely, and responded, Very impressive. Despite your confidence in your warriors, I still have the strength to take you if I wish it, but doing so could get, messy. But before we can talk you release my messenger.  
No deal! Jinnai swiped at the air in front of him, then clenched his fist. That page is my own personal insurance policy. As long as I hold him I can be sure that you won't try anything funny. And you should know that I've instructed my minions to attack and destroy your lousy stronghold if I don't return within two days time, so you're in no position to make demands!  
Nahato's face was ugly as the hate he hadn't allowed himself to show broke through at last. He was clearly insane, but whatever else this Jinnai may be, he was also very clever. He'd anticipated every move Nahato could make, and that fact was almost more galling that the infuriatingly smug look on his ugly pink face.  
_Patience,_ he told himself. _He's won this battle, but we're still a long, long way from the end. And sooner or later, his confidence will get the best of him, and his guard will slip ever so slightly. And then I'll slit his throat myself._  
Very well. Follow me  
  


****  


  
Shayla darted behind a convinient pillar as Makoto came into sight at last. He was standing in the main courtyard, discussing something with one of the engineers he'd been holed up with for the past few days, and she forced herself to breathe deeply a few times, and said to herself, Allright Shayla, this isn't that hard. Just don't fumble it! Then she put a smile on her face and walked around the corner just in time to see Qawoor walk up to him.  
Normally, she would have gone right back to hiding, but she only hesitated before continuing foreward. _Not this time, little miss sweetcakes,_ she thought, and yelled aloud Hey Makoto! Hi!  
He and Qawoor glanced up together, and he smiled and said, Oh, hi Shayla. What're you doing here?  
Obviously ignoring Qawoor's presence, Shayla took a deep breath, tried to smile, and sputtered out, She looked away miserably when she finished, and muttered something to herself about screwing up, and Makoto's face was sympathetic as he addressed her.  
Oh, well, I'm really flattered that you asked, but I already agreed to go with Qawoor. He was obviously trying to be gentle, but the effect this had on Shayla was profound. She glanced at him momentarily, then at Qawoor, and her eyes filled with tears.  
Oh, I just KNEW it! Shayla yelled, then ran away sobbing, and Makoto watched her go. He'd known that there would be no easy way to tell her, but he still felt responsible, and he started to run after her when Qawoor put a hand on his arm.  
Let her go, she said softly. She just needs some time alone.  
Makoto looked back at Qawoor, and sighed in complete exasperation.  
  
John walked into the study, and paused to admire the stack of books that was off the shelves. The library at Mt. Muldoon was well known to the lands of El Hazard as the most well-organized cache of knowledge there was, and Afura took a great pride in her reputation as it's keeper. She was obviously busy on yet another categorization, and he spotted her at last, lounging on one of the giant pillows that served as a chair, reading some tome or another.  
He spoke into her reverie, I'd never believed the rumors until now, but it's obviously true; all you do _is_ study.  
She looked up from her book, startled by his intrusion upon her quiet repose, then went back to reading and said You've no right to be insulting to a Priestess of Mt. Muldoon, especially not in her own temple. You're not going to make it very far if you don't learn some respect.  
His expression was hurt. Oh, come on Afura, have a sense of humor. I was just teasing, sheesh. Aren't you even going to ask how I got here?  
She paused her reading again, and something in his tone suggested...  
Wait a minute, it takes at least two days to get here from the Palace by cruiser, and I just saw you there yesterday! You mean, you flew?  
He nodded.  
By _yourself_? she asked again.  
He nodded again.  
Her earlier irritation vanished as she stood up and walked over to him. It had only been a few days, a week at most, since she'd taken him on that first awkward trip! He was clearly learning faster than anyone at the Temple had ever expected him to.  
Things were a little bumpy, at first, he admitted through a grin, but I think I've got the hang of it now. I wanted to show you what I'd learned, and to ask you for a favor.  
Of course, Afura replied, still a little dumbfounded.  
Well, two favors, really. First, I wondered if there was any way we could free up Nanami for the ceremony the day after tomorrow. I know that there's a Priestess of Light with the same gem as I have, and it would be great if she were here to help me learn how to use it. Plus, she'd be able to detect any of the Phantom Tribe's illusions, right?  
Afura sighed, then fixed him with a stern look. You know perfectly well why that can't happen. Headmistress Moram had a very excellent reason for asking Nanami to fill that role. Secrets are very hard to keep in a place like the Royal Palace. If there were to be an attack on you, Priestess Cerin would certainly have to reveal her abilities, and that would put us in a very awkward position.  
Of having to explain yourselves, John said flatly.  
Of placing every one of the other acolytes in unacceptable danger, yourself included!  
Then I'll go back to the Temple Home, after the ceremony, so they can train me in secret there. But it isn't fair to Nanami to keep her from her own life this way, and you know it! He crossed his arms, and his face was defiant. But Afura was just as stubborn, and she felt her temper rising.  
You can think whatever you like, but you'd better get used to the way things are, she told him in a steel voice, and you're nowhere near as fancy with that lamp as you think you are. I could still mop the floor with your butt and not break a sweat.  
Her eyes issued a challenge, and John took the bait. Allright, go ahead. Right here, right now. Prove your superiority, blow up the whole temple for what I care! Then you can explain the mess to the Headmistress! I doubt she'll be very forgiving of your teaching methods!  
Oh, that's it! She turned around and stormed off. I don't have to take this from some jumped-up punk kid!  
John yelled after her, Fine, walk away from the problem. I was going to ask you out to the ceremony, but I think I'll just go it alone now.  
Afura stopped dead in her tracks. His words had totally stunned her, and as she turned around slowly to face him, rage forgotten, he said softly, You know, it wouldn't hurt to get a little sun now and again. You look kind of pale.  
She blushed deeply. It's just that, well, I mean, uh, no one's ever...  
Asked you out? he finished as he walked up to her. My goodness, they really were secluded up here! Of course, John had seen what Temple life was like firsthand, so he should hardly be surprised.  
Well, no, she said finally. Her emarassment was so obvious he nearly laughed, but he stifled it and held out his hand instead.  
She looked at it like it held a gutted raw fish, but she set hers in it and he cocked an eyebrow.  
So, whadda ya say?  
  
Shayla was sitting, alone as always, at her favorite table in the corner of the diner. She'd run all the way out into the city, and thankfully the sun had gone down, so no one would see her tears. Her eyes were still red, though, and she'd felt vaguely guilty at ordering the poor man who was subbing for Nanami to turn down the lighting in her corner. She had fully intended to pass the night alone, so when Afura walked in and sat down next to her without a word it was actually a pleasant surprise.  
Shayla didn't even look up from her glass as Afura ordered sushi, totally different from her usual favorite. That's a new one, she said in a surly tone, what's the occasion?  
Well, I'll be in town for the next few days, preparing for the ceremony, so I thought I'd stop in, Afura responded, deliberately misunderstanding the question. I didn't expect you to be here sulking, though. What happened this time, set fire to Fatora's hair again?  
A smile broke on Shayla's face as she recalled the night two months ago. That evil wench had actually groped her, right in the middle of the courtyard! The look on her face as her immaculately-styled hair went up in flames and she rolled around in the dirt to put it out had almost been worth it, but the memory faded quickly, and the present situation offered little to laugh at.  
Wrong feeling, Afura, she sighed, and took a gulp of wine, I was walking on water for a week after that one.  
Looks like you're getting ready to drown, Afura replied dryly, noting the bottle on the table. If you keep this up you'll be no better than that drunk who threw up in the street a few nights ago. You can't always hide your feelings behind a mug of wine, Shayla.  
Shayla set her mug down. Well, maybe that's better than letting everyone know how I feel. At least with this stuff no one wonders why you look wretched. My only regret is the money I wasted on that damn dress.  
There was genuine passion in her voice, an indicator of deep-seeded feelings that Afura had only guessed were there. She knew all about Shayla's affection, and she knew Makoto could -or would- never share it. But in all these years Shayla had never once said anything directly to him, despite her long standing and well known preference for taking matters into her own hands. And now it seemed that the shame of her inaction had finally caught up with her.  
But Afura wasn't going to let her friend get off that easy. Oh, don't tell me you aren't going to the ceremony? I know you don't want to deal with Makoto, but think of your other friends. Mr. and Mrs. Fujisawa would be disappointed if you didn't come, not to mention the rumors that would start flying around the kingdom about why you missed _another_ party! Her dinner arrived on a tray, and she thanked the waiter before she dug in hungrily.  
Shayla took another drink. Each one was starting to hit a little harder than the last, and she wiped a drop that had spilled down her chin. I don't think I have a responsibility to anyone! she exclaimed, a bit too loudly, and Afura set down her chopsticks and addressed her friend sternly.  
Now listen, Shayla. Whether you like it or not, being a Muldoon Priestess means being visible and available to the public. You've been brooding more than usual lately, and you're hardly ever at the Temple, which is quite unfair to me and Qawoor, by the way. This ceremony is the most public event to happen in the kingdom since Qawoor's recognition, and I simply won't let you skip out on it. Understand?  
Shayla eyed her with an ancient sense of annoyance. And just what makes you think it's your decision? You've always been bossy, Afura dear, but on occasion I like to make my own decisions.  
Afura sighed again, and finished the piece of sushi she'd started on, then got up from the table. Fine. But this just proves how childish you really are. If you'd learned anything at all in the past few years, I'd have thought that it would be clear that Makoto does value you as a friend. But if you refuse to go just because you're jealous of Qawoor -which is hardly his fault- then all you're doing is saying that you don't care anymore.  
Well maybe I don't! Shayla shot back. Maybe the best thing would be for me to just disappear from his life forever. That way we could both get on with our own lives.  
Oh, stop it, Shayla! You're not even a part of his life _now_! Makoto still loves Ifurita, no matter what you want to believe, and that won't change. But you could still act like a grown woman, and be his friend at least.  
Oh fine, said Shayla tiredly, if it'll shut you up, I'll go. And at least we'll be going alone together, right? She looked up at Afura, but the confirmation she was waiting for didn't come. Instead, Afura was blushing slightly.  
Um, actually, I've kindof got a date, she said.  
Oh wait, let me guess, who could it possibly be? It's John, isn't it? Shayla asked sarcastically.  
Afura replied. He flew all the way out to the Temple on his own to ask me.  
Shayla's expression changed from one of annoyance to affection. But that's so _sweet_! she said. How romantic, I'm so happy for you, Afura! Afura couldn't quite tell if she was being serious or mocking her again, but the half-empty bottle in front of her suggested it was the former, so Afura simply smiled and decided to take the compliment for what it was worth. These sorts of lightning-quick mood swings were far from uncommon.  
Thank you, Shayla, she said, that's so nice of you to say. So, will you help me get ready? I don't think my first choice for dresses is quite going to do the trick.  
her drunken friend replied as she stood up slowly, nearly tipping over before getting her balance back, after all, there's no reason one of us can't be happy. We'll make you right up for that party, dear. Waiter! Check!  
  


****  
  


You can't be serious, Nahato said after Jinnai had finished outlining his plan, this can't work!  
Jinnai merely smiled. They were deep inside the Bugrom hive, and Jinnai had actually gotten the Phantom Tribe to agree to nearly all his demands. He had released Kiro from his imprisonment, since at any time Jinnai could trap all the scientists the Tribe had sent to study the Trigger of Destruction within his tunnels. He hadn't been happy about the amount of equipment they'd hauled in, but space was something he had plenty of, and if it got him his unstoppable superweapon, well then he'd pay just about any price.  
No, he could stomach the superior attitude of the Tribe when it came to their technological prowess, but militarily his confidence was still unshattered. He'd planned his first strike to coincide with his teacher's upcoming ceremony, but Nahato was insisting that he delay it.  
Attacking the Palace itself is a terrible waste of power. Victory there would be costly, at best, and the returns could hardly be worth it! You're throwing away lives on something that isn't even necessary!  
Ah, but it is necessary, replied Jinnai serenely, you see, I want Makoto to know that he's totally powerless before me. A direct attack on the palace while everyone's guard is down is the perfect way to demonstrate that I already possess overwhelming superiority, and it would be pointless to oppose me.  
Nahato tried very hard to keep his voice level, and his eyes were cold as he spoke. But they would still oppose you, wouldn't they? Their troops would follow you back to your base in these mountains, and then they would use the Eye of God to wipe you out again. Don't you see? We've just barely begun to study the Trigger's weaponry. Given just a little more time, we might be able to build a weapon from it, one powerful enough to knock the Eye of God from the sky, and then you would have nothing at all to fear. It sounded too much like pleading for Nahato's taste, but he had to stop this mad scheme right here, or all his efforts at building an alliance would go to waste.  
Jinnai swept his gaze around the room as he considered this. It was too true that the Eye -and Ifurita- were still the only threats that could stop him from conquering El Hazard. But while this seemed like the perfect opportunity to prove once and for all his superiority to the only people in this world that really knew him, he made himself consider Nahato's point as well. If he was right about the Tribe's ability to build a superweapon from the remaining parts of the Trigger...  
Very well, he proclaimed mightily, I shall hold off the attack for now. Besides, I've just received word that the bitch-princess Fatora will be traveling very far outside her own borders indeed. In fact, wasn't she your prisoner at one point as well?  
Nahato shivered quietly as the memory of what happened the last time they had kidnapped Fatora replayed itself for him, and he shut his eyes against the all too-familiar pain of the day he had been forced to spirit away the corpse of his mentor from that damned Eye.  
he replied, with that same cool control, she was the reason we were able to learn so much about the Eye before we were even aboard it.  
Jinnai smiled. Well then, I imagine you'd like a chance to even the score?  
Nahato recognized the manipulation in the last sentence, and even as his feelings began to well up at the chance to take just a little revenge for that day, he forced himself to think rationally.  
he said, if we kidnapped her a second time that would only antagonize the alliance further, and might spur them on to discover us too soon for our own plans to be put in motion. It would be best if we left her as a witness, particularly if we make a point of killing everyone else around her. She fancies herself quite the ambassador, from what our spies tell me. We should let her take the message back herself.  
He laid the slightest emphasis on the word , but Jinnai didn't even seem to notice.  
I LOVE it! he exclaimed, then stood suddenly. Very well. Inform your troops; we strike on the second day of her convoy to the steading of Helusan!  
Jinnai began to laugh again, and Nahato didn't feel quite as annoyed at it as he should have been. He'd gotten his way with the timing of the first strike, and if his scientists weren't just blowing him smoke, and they really were able to reverse-engineer the Trigger of Destruction, then things should begin to get interesting around here very soon.


	8. Book 2: Into something beautiful

::Book Two::  
::Chapter One::  


  
Dr. Stalubaugh and Dr. Rhimi stood together on the receiving platform, and for those who knew them the decorum they had shown so far was impressive. The Dean of the Royal Academy and the Dean of the History Academy were old philosophical rivals, and their confrontations over the role of the Muldoon Seminary in El Hazard history were legendary. It was also difficult to imagine a more deliberate physical antithesis; while Dr. Stalubaugh was the definition of old age, with his long white hair and short stature, Dr. Rhimi stood tall and lanky, and his hair, while just as white as the other man's was close cropped, and his clean-shaven chin was outlined by equally severe sideburns. Both men wore the formal white robes of office which befitted their high standing with the Royal House, but only Dr. Stalubaugh's was trimmed with gold along every edge.  
  
Technically, this was Rhimi's show, since Mr. Fujisawa would be under his direction at the History Academy. And for the ceremony, the two Deans had come to an agreement not to discuss anything not directly related to the ceremony for the duration. But now everything was finally in place, and Rhimi raised his hands and spoke slowly in a cultured tenor to the crowd gathered before him in the afternoon sunlight.  
  
Ladies, Gentlemen, members of the Royal Court, we are here on this day to honor a great man. Masamichi Fujisawa has served our nation brilliantly on the field of battle, and was instrumental in foiling the Bugrom invaders in their plot to overthrow the Kingdom of Roshtaria. But today, he will take on a different challenge, one defined not in terms of lives saved or battles won, but in lives touched, and futures brightened. He has agreed to serve us once again, not as a man who wages war, but as a man who can perhaps teach others how to avoid it. And in this precious knowledge, he has saved us again a thousand time over, from an enemy that has no form but threatens us constantly; fear.  
  
He paused dramatically, and every one of the hundred nobles, princes, queens, diplomats, and professors was as silent as stone, waiting for him to continue.  
  
And so it is with great pleasure that on this day, I am allowed to confer the title of Doctoral Professor of Earth History to Mr. Fujisawa, that he may pass on his knowledge and integrity for the next hundred generations to benefit from. Come foreword.  
  
Mr. Fujisawa got up from his seat in the rear of the hall -the same one he and Miz had been married in those scant years ago- and walked through the middle isle to the platform. He wore the same gray robes as a dozen other professors in the audience wore, and as he approached there was almost nothing in his countenance to suggest that he was the least bit excited about his new position, except for a noticeable twinkle in his dark brown eyes.  
  
He came to the base of the platform and halted, and Dr. Rhimi turned around and a formally dressed student handed him a navy blue sash. Rhimi turned back to Mr. Fujisawa, and placed the sash around his neck.  
  
he continued, take your place among your brothers, Doctor Fujisawa, and may you live a thousand years and never fail a student. Rhimi finished the last sentence with a smile, clearly enjoying himself, and he put out his hand.  
  
Mr. Fujisawa shook it gleefully, and as the crowd erupted in applause he walked to the back of the platform where the other eleven Doctoral Professors stood, and he shook each one of their hands in turn before turning back to face the crowd. He walked off the platform, and into the crowd of people that had gathered around him to offer their congratulations. Mika broke through the adults and exclaimed as he reached down and scooped her up into his arms. Miz followed close behind, and the last light of the setting sun turned the white marble of the skylit hall a deep orange as they kissed, then turned arm in arm to greet their well-wishers.  
  
I'm just so proud of you, sensei! Nanami gushed as she pushed her way through the thickening crowd. From high school teacher to Royal Professor, gosh! I'll bet the other students back home would never believe it!  
  
Uh, gee, thanks, I think, he scratched his head and replied.  
  
Makoto walked up with Qawoor and said, yeah, do we get to call you Doctor now? You've earned it, you know.  
  
Oh, Miss Miz, you must be so proud, Qawoor chimed in sweetly.  
  
Miz turned to her and smiled. Why thank you, Qawoor, I am. And may I say, you look very beautiful today.  
  
Of course, Miz had helped her a great deal in getting prepared for today, ever since it became obvious just how much it meant to her to impress poor Makoto. But after some basic instructions and a few bottles, she'd done the rest on her own, and she really did look beautiful.  
  
Her hair, for starters, had been combed out to fall straight down her back like a cascading waterfall, and gathered up in curls at the bottom as the spray in a pool might. The two locks which refused to blend with the rest of her hair had been tamed somewhat to hang just an inch from her forehead, instead of their customary foot.  
  
Her dress was a gorgeous fabric that shifted in the light between white and pale blue, and it shimmered as though it were wet. Her family crest formed the clasp for a shawl of a perfectly clear fabric, which ran down her arms and attached at the wrists to her dress with stylized clasps that had been made to match her crest.  
  
Even after her time with the other Muldoon Priestesses, she seemed innocently unaware of the effect her beauty had on other men, and so she merely blushed and held on to Makoto's arm at Miz's complement.  
  
The congratulations continued for some time, with everyone from trusted royal advisors to total strangers demanding a handshake with the new doctor, and the torches lining the pillars in the great hall lit when the last of the sunlight faded.  
  


****  


  
Magnificent.  
  
That's what everyone had been saying about the reception area's decorations, and, thought Shayla, they were right. Rune really had done an excellent job, and the whole place looked like a page from some epic fairy tale. The royal flower garden had been chosen to hold the after-ceremony party in, and the grand arena was as beautiful as anything she'd ever seen. Rows of perfectly tended flower beds lined the footpaths that led to a large clearing almost 70 meters in diameter. It was surrounded by tremendous bushes of yellow lilacs, and there was a raised dais on one side of it that housed the band, and a tent covered the refreshment buffet. Banquet tables were situated around the dance floor in front of the music, and a soft glow from the lanterns mingled with the incredibly bright moonlight.  
  
The party had lasted for hours, and looked like lasting right into the wee hours of the morning. Almost every dignitary from the far-flung corners of El Hazard had come in an overwhelming public display of approval for Mr. Fujisawa's appointment, which was making Shayla's mission a bit harder. She'd been looking for Makoto for half an hour and hadn't found him yet, but suddenly she saw him standing beside the refreshment table. She started walking towards him before she noticed that Qawoor wasn't with him, and her determination mounted.  
  
Makoto saw her approaching through the various dignitaries; even in such a crowd the red-haired fire priestess was hard to miss. She moved with the easy confidence that years of harsh physical training had given her, and the dress she'd picked out hugged her perfect figure with brutal honesty. He waved to her and called out, Miss Shayla! Hi!  
  
_Ugh,_ she asked herself, _why does he still insist on calling me after all we've been through?  
_  
Oh hey, Makoto! she hailed back as though she'd just now seen him. Where'd Qawoor go off to?  
  
I think one of the diplomats from Assan in the desert regions was talking to her about extending their rain season by a few weeks. They've been talking for a while, I guess she really does love her job, huh?  
  
There was a bit too much admiration in his voice for Shayla's taste, so she grabbed his hand and changed the subject as quickly as she could.  
  
Yeah, isn't that great? Well, the band's starting up, whadda ya say we hit the dance floor? Come on, it'll be fun! He nearly spilled his drink as she dragged him off through the crowd towards the floor in front of the bandstand.  
  
But Shayla, Makoto protested lamely, what if she comes looking for me?  
  
Shayla turned to him and grinned. Oh, it's not like we'll be hard to find. And besides, there's plenty of time left to get a step or two in with her, too.  
  
Everyone who saw her coming got out of the way as quickly and politely as they could, and as they got within a few steps of the dance floor the band started the first chords and began to play. Many more nobles joined the pair and soon the dancing was the center of attention. People began to crowd around the floor as the space was quickly filled with moving bodies, some twirling in time to the music, some obviously dancing to their own beat. In the middle of the floor an elaborate formation was flowing in perfect synch, a gathering of royalty who'd been trained from birth in the ways of the court. There were alliances to be made this evening, as royal courtiers searched for the perfect political alliance among the young princes and princesses that had gathered.  
  
Shayla and Makoto stayed away from that crowd, and as they moved together her sense of nervous joy grew more difficult to contain with each step. Here at last they were on the date she'd always dreamed of, ever since that first strange day they had met. Since then they'd quite literally given their lives for each other on more than one occasion, but she had never been able to get him alone for more than a minute or two. A part of her screamed out to _tell him_ while she had the chance, but she felt the old barriers coming up between them, and the whole time all she could do was stare at him in wonder.  
  
_Dammit, why can't I say anything? We're dancing together in this beautiful setting on a perfect night, and I'm all frozen up like a fish in a shipping crate! I've been waiting for this for so long, and there's so much I want to tell him. This is the best chance I'll ever get, I've got to take it!  
_  
All she managed to get out was uhh, eep.  
  
Makoto noticed that she was struggling with something, and his instincts told him what she was trying to tell him. But he knew that she had to say it for herself, so he guided their steps off the floor and outside of the crowd, in between two bushes, and waited patiently for her to speak.  
  
Um, Makoto, listen. There's something I've been meaning to tell you, for a really long time... she blushed as her voice cracked over the sentence like a school girl's. Makoto started to say something, but stopped himself; if she was ever going to get over this childish awkwardness, she had to do it now. So he simply nodded for her to continue.  
  
I guess, well, I think, I love you, Makoto.  
  
There: she'd said it. There was no retracting it, no more pretending. As she looked at him through painfully apprehensive eyes he realized that the great Priestess of Fire Shayla-Shayla, the one who went to the greatest lengths to make the rest of the world think she was invincible, was at that moment as fragile as the flowers that surrounded her. She'd never really opened up to anyone but Afura, and then only as a friend and fellow priestess.  
  
Makoto sighed. I know, Shayla. I've known for a long time. But, you've got to know that I love someone else. He winced as he saw some inner resolve break, as though the last vestige of hope she'd had had just been crushed.  
  
But why? How could you possibly think that evil robotic demon could ever have the same feelings for you that I do? What kind of future could you possibly have together? The corners of her mouth were quivering gently and her shoulders began to shake, but he took her up in his arms suddenly, and let her cry.  
  
he whispered into her ear, but the moment was wrecked suddenly when a screeching purple ball tumbled through the bushes behind them and knocked them both over.  
  
Oh, hi master! Alielle said from behind her crimped locks, Sister Shayla, _there_ you are! Hey, you guys have to hide me, one of the other princesses got in a fight with Lady Fatora. I tried to calm her down, but my hands slipped and well...  
  
Shayla didn't even have the energy to protest this invasion, she simply pushed herself up off Makoto and walked away. He watched her go, a pained expression on his face, and Alielle flushed slightly.  
  
Did I interrupt something, master Makoto? She remembered the conversation they'd had a month back, about Shayla's continuing interests in him, and from Shayla's barely concealed sobs as she made her way back towards the exit of the gardens Alielle realized that something had indeed been going on when she'd stumbled onto them.  
  
Makoto just hung his head and sighed remorsefully. A part of him was glad that Shayla's reaction hadn't been more forceful, but that same lack of fire was almost more distressing. Somehow, he'd expected more of a fight from her, but it was clear that she lacked the will to argue over it, at least for tonight.  
  
Alielle waited for a minute, then asked quietly, you told her, didn't you?  
  
The single word was flat, leeched of all emotion.  
  
Well, I'm proud of you, master. It's about time someone told her the truth, no matter how hard it might be to deal with.  
  
But I never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings, said Makoto, I just had to tell her the truth. Do you think she'll ever be able to forgive me, Alielle?  
  
She smiled. Oh, you know Shayla. She's always been quick to recover. I'm sure she'll forget all about it by tomorrow.  
  
Makoto glanced at the red head of hair moving farther away through the crowd. He knew it wasn't going to be quite that simple, but he made himself smile at Alielle. I hope you're right.  
  


****  


  
I've never seen this many lace napkins on one table!  
  
Afura grinned politely in response to this latest in a string of entertaining comments. This was turning out to be a most, _interesting_ evening. John had the strangest habits, different even from the other earthlings, and it had become rapidly apparent that this America he had come from lacked any form of graceful high society that might have prepared him a little better for an occasion such as this.  
  
One time, he continued, at my aunt Gracie's third wedding, they had all these helium balloons, and I sucked 18 of em in three minutes! My voice was squeaky for half an hour after that! Ha ha ha ha! He took another ladelfull of punch from the bowl in front of him, then asked her, have you ever done that?  
  
she said as kindly as she could, I've never had the occasion to. The poor boy was clearly nervous, despite his earlier self-assurance when he'd first asked her to come with him. Of course, it wasn't as though Afura herself had much experience with this sort of thing, so she'd decided early on to just let the evening develop on it's own. Unfortunately, his nervousness seemed to be increasing as the night passed, and this wasn't doing anything to ease her own butterflies.  
  
John was obviously aware of the awkwardness between them, and had been struggling all night with how to address it. _Come on, man,_ he thought to himself, _you can do better than this! Matthew Broderick was never this confused, especially in Ferris Bueller's Day Off!  
_  
Uhhh, listen, um, he looked around nervously like he was waiting for something disastrous to happen, would you, like to, uh, dance?  
  
He gulped on that last word, and Afura smiled. I'd love to, she said, and held her arm out. John took it gingerly, as though he might break it off if he wasn't careful enough, and led her out to the dance floor.


	9. Watch the time go by

::Chapter Two::  


  
John had never liked dancing. Like most post-pubecent men in America, he viewed it as a necessary evil, something to be done only when forced into it by a really cute girl.  
  
Afura, as with the other priestesses, had been trained since she was a little girl at Temple in the various arts and skills of the Royal Court. For public figures it was expected that they know how to behave in social situations, and while Shayla had lagged behind and just barely earned a passing mark in these studies, Afura had taken a secret delight in such grandiose formalities.  
  
These two facts combined to make John look like a total fool on the dance floor. He'd seen the chick flicks, and could parrot a decent waltz, but the music they were playing was different in a few small but fundamental ways from the limited classical works he'd been exposed to. Every few stanzas it seemed to switch tempo, and the scales were reversed. These switches didn't seem to follow any kind of predictable pattern, either, and so when he began to follow Afura through one particular set of steps she would suddenly spin him around and he'd nearly fall over himself trying to follow.  
  
_God, we've got to look like a hippo and a swan trying to waltz,_ he thought, and giggled a bit at the image his imagination painted for him.  
  
Pay attention! Afura snapped at him.  
  
Her voice startled him, and he looked at her and smiled sheepishly. Sorry, I guess there's a bit more I still have to learn here.  
  
I'll say, she replied, haven't you ever done this before?  
  
No, not really. One time in elementary school there was a bunch of rich kids who went to some special class to learn manners, but I never went for that kind of stuff.  
  
she said.  
  
It wasn't that we were poor or anything, he continued absentmindedly, I just never really fit in with that crowd. They were all so stuck up and snotty, they had these really superior attitudes like they were better than everyone else. You know what I'm talking about? The question seemed innocent enough to John, but it produced a totally unexpected reaction in Afura. Her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates for a split second, then she looked away in shame.  
  
So, you don't think that, that I'm like that? Her voice betrayed a level of insecurity that no one would ever have guessed was there, and it took John completely by surprise.  
  
He abruptly stopped dancing and led Afura off to one of the unoccupied tables, then sat down next to her.  
  
he began, you can be awfully bossy sometimes. When we first began working together on this magic stuff, I thought you were a genuine hard-ass.  
  
She looked up at him so quick that he put his hands up in surrender. Whoa, whoa, on my planet that just means you're hard on people you've been put in charge of! It's got nothing to do with your, well... his voice trailed off.  
  
She regarded him for a few seconds, then commanded, Go on.  
  
said John, I figured you were just trying to make sure I got it right, and I appreciate that. There were a few times that first week when I felt like you were trying to kill me, but I kept thinking back to that first day when I got transported to the market. I've never been more frightened in my life, but you were so kind and understanding, that, I dunno. I could just tell that whatever else went on, you really cared about what happened to me. So, that's why I asked you here. I wanted to say thank you, and also to get to know you a little better, I guess. But it didn't exactly go like I planned.  
  
A small tear ran down her face, and Afura laughed a little. Why, what did you have planned?  
  
answered John, I had planned to be utterly charming, witty, dashing and debonaire. But I think I ended up just being silly.  
  
Afura laughed again. I think you did just fine, she said, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was John's turn to be totally surprised, and when she pulled back he was just about to say something, when a high-toned ringing from the stage caught everyone's attention.  
  
Everybody? Could I have your attention for just a few minutes? Miz called out, then set her glass down on a table. Mr. Fujisawa and Mika walked up behind her, and he put a hand on Miz's shoulder.  
  
I just wanted to thank you all for coming, she said, especially all of our friends from the other kingdoms. It means so much that you all came here tonight, and I'd also like to thank the royal family for hosting the ceremony. Miz raised her glass again in toast, and a hardy here, here! rose up from the crowd.  
  
There's just one more thing we'd like to tell you all before you go, said Mr. Fujisawa, then he stooped down and whispered go ahead, to Mika.  
  
The little girl took the thumb she had been sucking diligently from her mouth and hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and yelled at the top of her lungs, Mommy's pwegnant! then spun right back around and buried her face in Miz's dress.  
  
The applause began slowly, and steadily worked it's way up until the noise should have, by all rights, brought down the Palace itself. The soon-to-be four Fujisawa's stood at it's heart, frozen for an instant in that perfect slice of time.  
  


****  


  
The sun was hot, but the royal cruiser had been built to princess Fatora's exacting requirements, and so she laid on what ancient Earth sailors would have called the poop deck, spread out under the cruiser's sails and basking in the cool breeze being pumped over her by her own climate control system.  
  
She and Alielle were laying out', as she had explained to her crew in very simple terms, which meant that there were to be no interruptions unless their lives were in imminent danger.  
  
Aaaahh, nothing like the perfect tan, eh Alielle? Fatora took a sip from the large   
frothing glass on the table between the two, and Alielle squeaked an affirmative. They were just four hours outside of Helusan, and Fatora had decided to forego the usual arrival preparations and take some time to clear her mind for the upcoming talks. The steading hugged the edge of the Desert of Bleached White Bones, which meant she could look forward to a very uneventful trip. There was absolutely nothing _to_ the place, except for it's location. Over half the Kingdom had to travel through it to reach the Fountain of Arliman, and the tolls paid to make use of the few safe routes through the desert accounted for fully two-thirds of the steading's income. They had just upped their rates for the fifth time without informing the royal family why, and Fatora was out to discover why they kept rising.  
  
At least, officially. The bookkeepers would do much of the real work, with Dr. Stalubaugh overseeing it. But he and Rune had seen an opportunity to show Fatora just how boring life as a diplomat could be, which hadn't kept her from insisting that everything be done her way regardless. The drinks tray next to her lounge chair attested to that.  
  
The drinks tray was also the first thing to spill it's entire contents onto the deck when the first explosion rocked the cruiser and sent Alielle and Fatora sailing from their chairs.  
  
The cutters of the Fifth Armored Division responded instantly to the attack, by scattering and trying to discover just where the attack was coming from. Not one of the scouts had reported seeing anything but sand and bones for the past half-hour, and frantic orders were shouted across the wastes as they searched the horizon in vain.  
  
Sixteen football-sized pods had descended from the middle of the sky, and destroyed two of the twelve cutters that were guarding the royal envoy. The second _Caravan_, the one that Dr. Stalubaugh was traveling on, had been hit far worse than Fatora's, and it careened madly, it's sail disrupted and landing skids torn apart.  
  
What the HELL is going on? Fatora shouted over the noise as she clung to the side rails on the ship for dear life. Behind her from the stern of the ship a distress flare shot into the sky, and erupted in a ball of green flame guaranteed to grab the attention of anyone within a hundred miles.  
  
Another round of the explosive pods fell, and the second cruiser lost all forward momentum and crashed into the desert dunes as her hull was raked with fire. Two more cutters vanished in their own explosions, but again Fatora's cruiser got off miraculously light. Guards began to pour out onto the deck and surrounded her and Alielle -who were still in their embarrassingly revealing bikinis- just as purple Bugrom soldiers were dropped from the same empty place in the sky the pods had been.  
  
The deck became a battlefield as incredulous guards battled with the Bugrom troops, and for a minute or two the guards more than held their own. Their forcepikes seemed to cut into the Bugrom's previously impenetrable armor without any trouble, but the ship was quickly overrun. Fatora screamed as she witnessed her guards giving up their lives to defend her; some were thrown off the sides of the ship, some were beaten to the deck, and some were simply broken like twigs in the giant hands of the Bugrom. Alielle fainted when the head from one of the Bugrom landed right in front of her, and Fatora hurried to hide her beneath one of the canvas deck coverings that had come loose during the fighting.  
  
She turned around and stood up just in time to see the last of her guards being tossed mercilessly off the deck. She stepped backwards, and her foot slipped in a puddle of something wet, probably her drink, and she fell back against the deck wall.  
  
What do you want?! she screamed as she pushed herself back further, and the Bugrom advanced towards her. Fatora screamed again and held her arms up, and the Bugrom paused to bring their fists up to strike.  
  
She waited an eternity for the blow to be struck, but it didn't come. She heard footsteps moving away from her, and looked up to see the Bugrom walking towards the bow of the ship. They leapt off one by one, and then a giant transport bug lifted off the desert beneath them and flew away towards the horizon. Fatora scrambled back into the canvas, and pulled Alielle out from it. She tried to wake the poor girl, but she was obviously unconscious.  
  
Fatora picked her up and turned around to walk below deck, and then the magnitude of the atrocity she'd just lived through registered. Everywhere she looked, it seemed, there were the broken bodies of her guard, the flight crew, and the minor functionaries that had come along on their voyage. The pristine white hull of the ship was splotched with red all around, and among the human wreckage were the victories the guards had managed to score against the Bugrom. Their giant metallic shells littered the deck, oozing green and purple fluids to mingle with the blood of her servants.  
  
Fatora stood there, helpless, her face as white as the bones they were sailing over, and then her own cruiser crashed into a dune. She was thrown from her feet and collapsed, knocked unconscious against the side of the ship.  
  


****  


  
Damn, Laen, you _tryin'_ to get us killed? Serun glanced back at the immense ribcage his pilot/friend had just flown them past. One of the ribs rose at least two stories into the sky, and Laen laughed hardily.  
  
Oh, hush. You said you didn't believe that the dragons of legend really existed, so I just thought I'd help change your mind. The small transport they operated jointly along the main route to the Arliman Hot Springs was free of passengers this afternoon, and so they were skimming along the desert dunes much faster than the officials would approve of.  
  
Just shut it, would you? replied Serun testily, we ain't no good to the government if our skimmer's busted from your fool stunts. And besides, I don't think that, wait, what the hell is that?  
  
He pointed towards the horizon, and Laen slowed down and grabbed the binoculars from his trunk. He held them up, and after a few seconds said, looks like some kind of flare. Never seen one that color, though. Must be something special.  
  
Turn this bucket around, Laen. We've got to get to the station. Serun took the binoculars from his friends' hands, and looked out that way himself as he felt the skimmer's bow pulling them around in an arc. A series of explosions, barely perceptible against the blinding white light of the sun, dotted his vision, and he tapped Laen on the shoulder absentmindedly without looking away.  
  
And I think we'd better hurry.  
  
The tiny skimmer set down on the far side of the Hot Springs, and Serun and Laen had made it halfway across the grounds of the camp, when their supervisor's voice boomed behind them.  
  
Hold it, you two! A very large, stocky man approached the suddenly still men from behind, and he was clearly annoyed with them.  
  
Do you know what kind of skimmer comes back to base without any passengers? he asked them.  
  
Serun spun around and began to talk in a panic. But, boss, you don't understand. We saw...  
  
I don't care what you _think_ you saw, those things are too damned expensive to operate unless they're making money!  
  
There was a distress flare, Laen interjected stoically, and the boss turned to him.  
  
What kind of flare? he asked in a much more serious tone of voice.  
  
Serun answered, I don't know, I've never seen anything like it before, but it was green.  
  
Their boss's face went hard. Get your ship refueled. We're loading up a medical team on it, so clear out your personal crap, too. NOW!  
  
The tiny smattering of ships was woefully unprepared to evacuate many survivors, but thanks to the Bugrom they wouldn't have to. As soon as they reached the site of Fatora's cruiser that fact became graphically evident, and one skimmer peeled off from the main group to check the royal cutters that were strewn about.  
  
It was Serun, actually, who found Fatora and Alielle, huddled together in dirty bathrobes below the main deck. After some coaxing they were brought up to see the boss, and only then was the rescue crew made aware that there was a second cruiser to search for. They took the two women aboard and left off again, and ten minutes later found the wreckage of Dr. Stalubaugh's ship.  
  
The badly mangled hull had snapped in two, and both halves stuck out of the dunes at odd angles, their bases already buried in the ever-shifting sands. Glad for something to do, Fatora and Alielle were the first to search the stern half, and to their vast relief discovered Dr. Stalubaugh and four crew members, barricaded together in a closet.  
  
Seven people, out of the 147 who had first set out from the Royal Palace two days ago, were the only ones to survive the Bugrom's surprise attack. And so it was that seven people, accompanied by the traders and pilots that made their living among the dunes, arrived in Floristica to make their report.  
  


****  


  
Makoto pulled his face away from the beaker just in time; the explosion was a small one by his own standards, but that didn't keep it from covering his face with soot. Again. The mixture he'd just tried, one of several types of blended grain alcohol, was the closest he had come to formulating a replacement gasoline for John's engine yet, and he was glad for John's help as they both labored to make Makoto's idea more than just a pipe dream.  
  
They were getting close, too. The factory where the parts for the engine would be molded was nearing completion, and the sails and hull were starting their production run, as well. Makoto had been flattered when he learned that Londs had ordered their construction before he was even sure they could be used, since it indicated a great deal of trust and confidence on the part of the royal family. And although he shared their confidence, there was a tiny part of him that was deathly afraid of failing, too.  
  
Oh geeze, Makoto, it's a wonder you haven't killed us yet! Nanami said from her perch on a lab stool behind the goggled duo. What went wrong this time?  
  
John stood up from observing the readout on one of the gauges they'd been monitoring the liquid's pressure with. I think it's still too rich; that stuff's still more combustible than nitrous, and there's no way we'll be able to design an injection system that'll handle it.  
  
Makoto said wearily, I thought we were real close this time. We need something to dilute it with that won't choke the carburetor.  
  
John put his hand to his chin in a thoughtful pose, and after a few seconds snapped his fingers.  
  
he said, what about that lead additive I've got in the trunk? If we could make it heavier somehow, I'll bet that'd do it!  
  
Makoto's eyes were suddenly bright. Hey, you're right! I think I can add more lead to it if we get it hot enough. I'll get some bars from the store room.  
  
And I'll grab the additive! replied John enthusiastically, and the two of them got up from the table and were on their way to the door when a breathless royal messenger ran up to them. They paused to allow the messenger to gather himself, but he spoke suddenly.  
  
Sir Makoto, Sir John, Miss Nanami, you must come quickly. Lady Fatora has been attacked by the Bugrom!  
  
The three friends glanced at each other for a moment, then Makoto nodded for the messenger to take them to the throne room.  
  
When they got there Fatora was sobbing gently in the arms of her sister, and Alielle ran immediately for Nanami and clamped her arms around her waist without saying a word. Dr. Stalubaugh, who hadn't had to witness the carnage that the two women had, was a little more coherent, and Sir Londs was attempting to pry as much information out of the man as possible. The rest of the ship's crew that had come with him was in a corner being debriefed by some official.  
  
It was towards the doctor that Makoto and John made their way, and they walked up just behind Londs. Dr. Stalubaugh looked up at the two boys, and smiled.  
  
Oh, Makoto, John, it is good to see you again, he said, and if his voice was heavy with the weight of what had just happened, there was a small attempt at brevity around it's edges, and Makoto sighed inwardly. That was a good sign.  
  
Doc, what happened? asked John.  
  
The doctor took a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly as if cleansing something from his system before he responded. In all my years I have never seen such an attack as that one. The Royal guards did their best, but I am afraid that there was little for them to do. For you see, throughout the entire attack our assailants were invisible.  
  
Londs gasped. Do you think then, that...  
  
The Bugrom have allied themselves with the Phantom Tribe, Dr. Stalubaugh finished. Yes, it seems our greatest fear has been realized. We have no idea where the Bugrom came from, since their base across the Holy River of God was destroyed years ago. And we have never been able to locate the home of the Tribe, either. Now our two most feared enemies are moving against us, and we cannot respond for we know not where to attack.  
  
Londs ground his teeth in impotent rage, then turned around and began barking orders. Send out patrols! Double teams! Scour every inch of the countryside until you discover the location of the Bugrom hive! One of the guards at the door bowed and left the room at a run, and then Londs turned to John.  
  
Sir John,  
  
Please, just John is fine.  
  
If you were to go with our patrols, would you be able to discover another hidden force with your powers?  
  
John gulped. Well, I'm really just starting to get past the basics, now. I'm not even sure about how I can use this thing- he put his hand on the lamp he wore -to do normal stuff. I've got a few tricks down, but that's really it. I'm sorry, but maybe if I spent more time on it...  
  
Then you must, Londs interrupted him. You and Nanami are the only two people in the entire Kingdom who can possibly see through the Phantom Tribe's illusions. The fate of El Hazard may rest on whether or not we can discover their whereabouts before it is too late to stop their next attack. Please, you must try! John stared back at him for a few seconds, then nodded severely. Of all the people in the room only he knew that there were in fact many people at the Temple who would be able to see the Phantom Tribe, but they'd been occupied for some time already trying to discover their home. At least, that's what he'd been told.  
  
Hey Londs, Makoto said, it may just be a nasty suspicion, but remember when we told you about the Trigger of Destruction, and how Jinnai wanted to control it?  
  
Londs nodded.  
  
Well what if he's gotten a hold of the remains?  
  
A grave look crossed Dr. Stalubaugh's face. But you said it was destroyed when you and Ifurita defeated Kalia. Are you saying that this is not true?  
  
Makoto smiled, embarrassed. No, it really did fall apart when Kalia lost control of it. But it just fell to the ground in pieces, so we figured it was useless.  
  
You think Jinnai might be trying to reconstruct it? Londs asked.  
  
It might be possible, if he had the help of the Phantom Tribe, Makoto said, so we should probably send someone out to see if it's still there. Besides, all those pieces can't be easy to transport. If he's taken some of them, we'll know that the Bugrom have to be close by.  
  
You're right, said Londs, we must move quickly. I will have the transports prepared. He bowed formally to the princesses, then walked out of the throne room as briskly as his royal training would allow. Dr. Stalubaugh watched him go, then looked up at Makoto.  
  
I will aid you in any way I can to get those flyers ready for war, while John is away. We must be able to combat the Bugrom on more even terms next time.  
  
Makoto held out his hand, and the doctor took it gingerly. Later. You need to rest for a while, said Makoto, but just as he was helping the older man up John yelled back at him from the entrance to a small terrace overlooking the city.  
  
Hey, Makoto!  
  
  
  
John reached into his pocket and dug something out, then tossed it at Makoto. He caught it with a *clink*, then opened his hand to stare at the keys to John's car.  
  
Take care of her for me, John said, then winked and turned around and walked out to the terrace. He waved his hand over his lamp, and his shirt billowed out as the winds swirled around him, then picked him off the ground and sent him hurtling into the sky. The royal family watched him waver and lose altitude a couple of times, but then he seemed to get his bearing and was soon out of sight over the horizon.  
  


****  


  
Sir Londs had a difficult decision to make, and had any stranger walked into the gardens that night and seen him they might not have noticed the intense concentration on his face, usually hidden behind his beard and a mask of iron-willed self control.  
  
The situation he was facing was uniquely distressing, however. At present there was still only one person who could detect the Phantom Tribe, Nanami, and the essential weakness of his position was that she could only be in one place at one time. For now that meant keeping her with the Royal family, since no attack on them could be permitted, but that also meant that she could not be sent on the new mission to Helusan which was so vitally important to the Kingdom.  
  
And what if there were members of the Tribe at the site of the Trigger of Destruction? Could they really risk sending more men into what could possibly be enemy territory if those men had no way to see the enemy? Then, there was John. He'd left for the Temple Home as soon as Londs could have hoped for, but not even the great Muldoon Priestesses had been able to tell him how long this new training might take. Afura had warned Londs that it could take months before John really figures out how to control that aspect of his powers, although his natural affinity for the ancient magic seemed to make it much easier for him to learn. Londs secretly suspected that the enigmatic Temple was full of secrets that could be used to aid Roshtaria in preparing for this second Great War, but his efforts to get more information out of the priestesses had been expertly deflected. They obviously didn't know anything more about it, or where too well trained to reveal what they did know, and while he couldn't cite any specific instance that made him think this way, his military mind insisted that there was somehow more to it than just the facade of Mt. Muldoon.  
  
Meanwhile, Makoto would remain behind to finish the work on his jet fighters in the hopes that they could be used against the Bugrom when the next attack came, but their construction was a slow and difficult process, if in fact it proved possible to operate the things once they had them. If anyone in the kingdom could do it, the team of Makoto and Dr. Stalubaugh would, and Londs had done his best to stress once again the urgency with which they must work.  
  
Nanami had been at the side of the royal family ever since Fatora had returned, but the princesses could not be sent on such a risky mission as the one to Helusan again. It might damage the morale of the Kingdom if another mission were destroyed thanks to the Phantom Tribe, but it would be infinitely worse if one of the members of the royal house were kidnapped or assassinated. Fatora had been lost once, and Londs had sworn to never lose either of the princesses again.  
  
He was so deep in meditation that the sensation of a delicate hand on his shoulder startled him unduly. He let out a most undignified yelp, then turned around and tried to hide his surprise from Afura Mann, who had just walked up behind him and began to speak.  
  
From the depth of your concentration, you've got quite a bit on your mind. Might I offer to take some of it off for you?  
  
Londs looked at the priestess with a mixture of annoyance and relief, then asked,   
  
Afura looked out over the city before replying heavily, I've spoken to Shayla-Shayla and Qawoor, and they've agreed that you cannot send Nanami with the search team to the Trigger of Destruction. Therefore, we volunteer to scout it for you. None of your men will be in danger, and we can handle any group of enemy spies or workers we might come across.  
  
Londs sighed, then nodded. I thank you. I am certain that you realize the severity of the situation, but I cannot let you leave without warning you; we still have no clue as to the location of our enemies. It is possible that you will run into greater strength than even the great priestesses of Mt. Muldoon could handle on their own, and I want you to know that your safety is more important to the Kingdom than the successful completion of this mission.  
  
Afura turned her head back to him and smiled cockily. Her voice was light enough to hide her true feelings, but Londs thought he detected a hint of wariness in the woman's eyes as she continued. Don't worry about us! I think we'll be able to take care of ourselves for a few days, at least. I'll arrange for the smallest, fastest transport we can get, so the journey will be short.  
  
Londs bowed to her formally, Of course. Thank you again, and good luck. The prayers of the royal family are with you.


	10. Cold dread

::Chapter Three::  


  
Are you KIDDING?  
  
Nanami was a tad bit incredulous at the suggestion Rune had just put forth, and understandably so.  
  
I've put every lousy Roshtal I ever earned into that diner and you can't even imagine the time it takes to get the supply lines in order and hire decent help in this city not to mention the regulations I gotta put up with all in addition to trying to make a decent profit on a world that isn't even my own and the building permits for the new franchises in Dorusland that require their own set of tax exemption forms and oh, this isn't going to get me anywhere, is it? Her voice had turned from the usual Nanami temper-rant into something that sounded too much like begging for her tastes as she ran out of breath, but the few times a commoner had butted heads with either member of the royal duo they hadn't gotten very far with it.  
  
I've already explained to you; the taxes on your chain' will be lifted as long as you're in the service of the royal family, Rune explained to her patiently, and that the permits in the rest of the Alliance territories will receive the official seal approval of the Kingdom upon your return. You have nothing to worry about.  
  
Nanami was toying listlessly with her drink - provided compliments of the royal family's omnipresent army of servants - on a small garden table in the terrace garden outside the throne room. It was a particularly beautiful day in the capital city, since the dragonbirds had just hatched and their haunting cries drifted in with the winds from the surrounding forests. The sun shone brilliantly, the flowers were in full bloom, and all this splendor had only served to make Nanami's mood more sour. It wasn't right that everything else in the world should be having a wonderful day when she had been asked to contend with this   
  
Actually, in truth she had been commanded to comply with the needs of the royal family, which entailed giving up her business and staying with the princesses full time until the Phantom Tribe was wiped out. For now, the two were staying together at all times, but Nanami was just as human as any other guard, which meant that she could only protect them most of the time. This made Londs extremely nervous, even though no one else in the Palace seemed to share his special sense of dread about the possibility of an assassination attempt.  
  
The guard around the princesses had been tripled at all hours, and they hadn't left the palace grounds in the few days since Fatora had returned. The extra security had set everyone on edge, and until the great priestesses returned with news of the Trigger, all the nerves in the palace were razor sharp.  
  
Oh, fine, Nanami said after a while, aware that her silence was adding to the tension, I guess it is the best thing for a while. Trilline can take care of the place allright, I just wish there was something else we could do.  
  
There is something else we require of you, Londs said, and waited for Nanami to groan before continuing, I will take you personally to our Royal Guard's firing range. If an assassin does show up, you may be the only one who can see them well enough to kill them.  
  
At this Nanami's eyes grew wide. She looked from Rune, to Fatora, to Alielle, seeking some confirmation that Londs wasn't serious. But then she came to look into his eyes, and the desperate struggle for control that was evident behind them broke her resolve.  
  
You, you expect me, to use one of those? She pointed, unbelieving, at one of the forcepikes the guard that surrounded the small party was equipped with, and Londs shook his head.  
  
No no, we expect you to use one of these. He pulled from a sling on his back one of the old hand rifles that had proven so totally ineffective against the Bugrom, but could still presumably be used against other humans, and proceeded to tell her all about it.  
  
Since the first Great War we've modified their design to provide nearly twice the range of the old version, without sacrificing more than 5% of it's original power. The muzzle has been redesigned to...  
  
Nanami buried her head in her forearm and nearly wept in exhaustion onto the table. Londs had developed a distinct enthusiasm for new weapons designs, and it was all she could do to keep from running away as he droned on and on about this wonderful new device that was just as likely to get her killed as it would any assassin worth his pay. Secretly, a tiny part of her inside wished that the Bugrom could just get it all over with, even as the image of her brother's gross visage planted itself in her head and her memory began to replay the past few years for her. She thought of him laughing maniacally when he first gained control of Ifurita. She thought of him laughing maniacally when he'd very nearly gotten her, Mr. Fujisawa, and the three Muldoon Priestesses killed during the final attack with his gigantic Super . She thought of him laughing maniacally when Kalia had shown her true colors and very nearly destroyed their entire universe, and worst of all, she thought of him laughing maniacally when he used the Trigger again, rebuilt by his Bugrom hordes, to destroy all of Roshtaria. The visions of destruction filled her head no matter how hard she fought them; there was Mr. and Mrs. Fujisawa's home being destroyed, the Royal Academy, the Palace, the Shinonome Diner...  
  
The Diner! The one thing in this crazy world she felt she truly owned, and that last thought did it. She could no more bear to lose that than she could bear to lose Makoto, and her face hardened with a grim determination.  
  
...and since the groove has been precisely machined and lined with...  
  
ALL RIGHT ALREADY!! she exclaimed into Londs' dissertation. She whirled up out of her chair in a motion so quick that there was no visible transition between the two positions. Even the guards nearly dropped their pikes in surprise when she cried out, but then they all saw the grin on her face, and despite their training almost trembled in their boots.  
  
I'll do it! Anything I can possibly do to ruin the plans of my evil brother, I'll make sure I'm the best darn shot with that thing the Palace has ever seen! Don't worry, your highnesses, you couldn't have picked a better person for the job! Then she began to laugh, and everyone around her involuntarily took two steps backwards. The pitch might have been off, and it didn't have that stilted quality that distinguished Katsuhiko's laughter so well, but the same near-hysteria infused it, and that was the most worrying thing to happen yet.  
  


****  


  
We should be there by now. Afura, are you sure we're going the right way?  
  
Afura sighed with the exaggerated patience she reserved in such great quantities for dealing with her maddeningly unprofessional fellow priestess.  
  
Honestly, Shayla, that's the fifth time you've asked. Yes, I'm certain that this is the path to the hidden mountain that we took the last time. Don't you recognize it at all?  
  
Shayla grunted and crossed her arms. Well, it sure doesn't look familiar, she pouted, but then something in the distance caught her eye, and she grabbed Qawoor's arm.  
  
Hey Qawoor, did you see that? she asked, and the water priestess looked up from the book she was reading, then set it down gently and stood to look out over the deck of their tiny skimmer.  
  
Afura really had insisted that they take the smallest, most inoffensive craft they could find, and that had meant they would be living off a ship just big enough for the engines, a sail, and a small storage bay for their foodstuffs. Qawoor was just as grateful for the unrestricted view this gave them of the surrounding countryside, because just on the edge of the horizon she could indeed pick out the entrance to a large, craggy canyon with mountainous rocks jutting up from the bottom like hideous teeth. Some were sharp edged, and some were rounded off. But there was one that almost looked like a pillar, sticking straight up into the sky, and perfectly flat on top.  
  
Yup, that's it allright, said Shayla, hey Affy, we found it! Dead ahead!  
  
The skimmer came to a halt well before they reached the fictitious mountain cliffside, and the three priestesses looked around the canyon floor numbly, as though they were moving through some horrible nightmare.  
  
Afura departed into the skies almost immediately, and Shayla began running around the base of the mountain in a mad rush. Poor Qawoor had been briefed on what they might expect to find, but she was obviously confused about the significance of this place.  
  
She scanned the bleak landscape, searching for a trace of some great machine or ancient power, but all she could see were a few scorch marks in the cliffside, and lots and lots of dust. Shayla and Afura returned after each had exhausted themselves with the search, but neither of them had been able to find so much as a spare screw or panel from the Trigger.  
  
Jinnai had taken the entire gigantic creation, with all it's deadly potential, and left nothing but a cold sense of dread in his wake. Afura shivered as the situation fully registered with her brain, then paused as some distant sound caught her ear. She perked her head up, could she have been imagining it?  
  
Afura held her hands out to silence Qawoor and Shayla, and the two other priestesses stared at her as she commanded the winds of the canyon to bring her every sound that was made around them. A white smoky haze began to circle her, and she closed her eyes as the symphony of noises made itself heard. There were birds chirping, a lizard darting behind a rock, the trickle of a tiny spring flowing over an ancient rock bed, and above them...  
  
Voices.  
  
What are they doing now?  
  
Did you plant the device?  
  
Should we attack them yet?  
  
Afura's eyes snapped open with the initial surprise, but then she calmed herself, and walked over to the other priestesses.  
  
We're being watched, she said plainly, and for once Shayla's first reaction wasn't to look around and demand their stalker come out into the open. _Is it possible that she's actually learned something?_ Afura asked herself, but she banished the thought quickly lest it turn into a glimmer of hope.  
  
How many of them are there? Qawoor asked.  
  
Afura furrowed her brow in concentration for a second, then said, two, maybe three, I can't be sure. Don't do anything out of the ordinary for now, but I think they may have already rigged the skimmer.  
  
Oh great, muttered Shayla, how are we supposed to get out of here now?  
  
I think we may actually have to do it your way, Shayla, replied Afura reluctantly. Do you at least remember how we planned to deal with this ahead of time?  
  
Shayla shot her an annoyed glance, then stuck her nose up in the air. Of course I remember! It was my idea, after all, since I knew you were going to get us into trouble out here.  
  
Afura bit back a retort, and simply walked in between the other two and raised her hands again. Shayla did likewise, and a circular wall of wind and fire erupted from the ground around them. It started so close to the three that Qawoor almost felt her hair singeing, and then moved outward in a terrible flash of destruction. The wall was massive; it reached up and over the lip of the canyon with ease, and as the fires fanned out from them, driven by the unnatural strength of Afura's winds they turned the dusty ground beneath them black. Every nook and cranny was scorched so that nothing living could have survived the firestorm, and when the wall reached the skimmer it was picked up as casually as a child might lift a doll, and torn apart just as easily.  
  
The Phantom Tribe scouts had realized too late what was happening, and even as they turned to run the wall enveloped them as well, but their screams were barely audible over the roar of the pure elemental fury that had taken them.  
  
Then it died as suddenly as it had appeared, and Afura and Shayla collapsed to their knees in exhaustion.  
  
That should take care of anyone who was following us, Shayla said between panting, Qawoor, get us out of here, quick!  
  
Qawoor nodded, then raised her own hand and surrounded the three of them in a globe of water, then pointed forewords. A torrent sprung up beneath them and rushed along the canyon floor, turning it into a dark ashy mudpit, then they reached the small tributary to the River of God that they'd been following their way out, and turned back up river to head towards Floristica.  
  


****  


  
Are you absolutely certain there was nothing left? Makoto asked with just a hint of desperation.  
  
I'm sorry, Makoto, but none of us could see anything there. Shayla and Afura searched all over the mountain, and we finished just in time for Afura to discover the Phantom Tribe watchers. Qawoor was tired from their journey, but it seemed as though the feat she had pulled off to get them here safely hadn't drained her strength the way it had the other two priestesses. In the past few years as she grew accustomed to her job as the Priestess of Water she'd only gotten stronger, to the point where her abilities were rivaled now only in legend. While it was true that the current generation of Priestesses had proven unusually adept at controlling their chosen elements, Qawoor stood out even among them, which had infused Miz - not to mention the rest of the Seminary and the Circle of Water - with a sense of great pride that she was not afraid to show off. But that pride was barely evident behind a severe look of concern as she, Mr. Fujisawa, Makoto and Dr. Stalubaugh listened to Qawoor's recounting of their journey.  
  
But if that is true, then he must have discovered a way to reactivate it, said Dr. Stalubaugh, for it would make no sense to recover the entire weapon without knowing what it could be used for.  
  
said Mr. Fujisawa, clearly perturbed by the whole incident.  
  
Makoto looked to Shayla. You said you searched all around the mountain; were there any tracks or paths that might show where they took all the pieces?  
  
Shayla shook her head angrily. Are you suggesting that I didn't know what to look for? she asked him.  
  
Makoto closed his eyes and sighed. No Shayla, I wasn't suggesting that at all. I just can't imagine that the Bugrom would be able to do anything with the wreckage from an ancient El Hazard weapon. I haven't been able to figure out how to control the Eye of God, and I've got access to all the literature in the kingdom about it.  
  
Ah, but you forget that the Bugrom are now allied with the Phantom Tribe, Dr. Stalubaugh countered, and their science is advanced decades beyond our own. They were nearly able to control the Eye without any outside assistance, so it is conceivable that they will discover similar means to controlling the Trigger of Destruction.  
  
But Jinnai's not the type to destroy the universe; he'd want to conquer it, not obliterate it, Afura pointed out.  
  
Dr. Stalubaugh made a noise like a disgruntled goat, then said, there may be other systems or technologies that he could use against us, without activating the final mechanism. But this speculation is pointless. We must turn all of our efforts to discovering where he has hidden it, and then- his face turned deadly serious -we must destroy it.  
  


****  


  
Jinnai ignored the presence of the Phantom Tribe scientist who had paused mid-gait to bow to him, then continue in the opposite direction down the hallway. From the very beginning he'd done everything he could to make it clear that he was the master of this domain, without question. The Council had listened to his list of demands very patiently, and had argued here and there about some of his more ridiculous points, but by and large they'd accepted his terms without any real objections.  
  
This worried him. He'd gotten virtually everything he wanted from them; their skills had made his first attack possible well before he would have had the necessary numbers without them, and the work on the Trigger was progressing almost as fast as he'd hoped for. But there was something about their manner around him which indicated that there was far more to their presence than they'd let on. It was almost as if they were placating to him _too much_, despite his overwhelming need to be treated like the God he truly was upon this world. No, there was definitely something they weren't telling him, but he tried to put it out of his mind as he rounded the final corner and came to the gigantic hatchway that constituted the only entrance or exit to the cavern where the Trigger of Destruction was being rebuilt.  
  
The small ten meter-long hallway that led up to the hatch was lined with Bugrom guards, and they all bowed to their knees as Jinnai approached. He stood still for a second in front of it, and then it began to slide into the rock slowly. As soon as it finished he walked through it, his two permanent Groucho-bug guards in tow, and paused to admire his worker's accomplishments.  
  
The cavern was humongous, reaching father up and back than the lights at the entrance could have illuminated. All about him worker bugs and Phantom Tribe scientists were bustling around the gigantic hull of the ancient warship that was finally taking shape. Less than half of the Trigger had been reassembled, but it no longer looked like the random collection of parts that the Bugrom had gathered from the site of the wreckage.  
  
Instead, there was a skeletal basis for a warship in what was essentially Jinnai's own private hangar, even though the Phantom Tribe was officially that it would every be fully operational again. The smug bastards were probably keeping the most important parts for themselves, but that was just fine so long as they delivered on their first promise, which was to get the secondary weaponry - similar in many respects to what the Eye of God had used to defend itself from attack - working and mobile.  
  
As soon as they could determine how exactly the Trigger worked, Jinnai would have a weapons platform with extraordinary range and power that the blasted Roshtarians could never hope to match, and the Phantom Tribe to hide it until the proper time for a, _demonstration_, came. The very thought of watching the towers of the Royal Palace being destroyed as a prelude to their conquest was enough to set Jinnai shivering with anticipation, but he was here for a reason, and that reason was hunched over some sort of diagnostic readout, incomprehensible letters and number flashing over his face as reflected from the screen.  
  
Welir was distinguishable from the other Phantom scientists only by his laser-red eyes and shimmering white hair, otherwise he wore the same robes as everyone else. Jinnai walked up to him and stopped a meter from the readout, but Welir made no move to recognize his presence.  
  
MmmmmuurrrrrrAGH! Hey, what the hell are you doing that's so important you can't be bothered to pay respects to your new master!? Jinnai fumed loudly. Every bug within earshot stopped dead and turned to stare at the scene unfolding.  
  
Welir wasn't fazed in the least. Instead, he looked up at Jinnai as though he were examining just another specimen, then straightened up casually and bowed.  
  
My apologies, sir, I was just examining the results of our initial tests of the power circuitry. There was some collateral damage from the descent when the ship broke apart,' as you put it, but I believe that we will be able to use the basic distribution matrix as it is. His voice was cool and without inflection, and it seemed to have a calming effect on Jinnai.  
  
he replied testily, does that mean that you'll be able to get the entire thing working soon?  
  
Welir shook his head. Unfortunately, we still do not understand the command and control systems properly. The ship is at least partially, perhaps totally organic in nature, which may indicate that only an organically-based control device will interface with it properly. Until we can discover how that device must operate, we will have no control over its systems.  
  
Jinnai waited, his arms folded, glancing pointedly at Welir in an attempt to get the enigmatic scientist to proceed on his own, but after a few moments it became clear that he was simply awaiting further instructions, and Jinnai let out a long breath.  
  
AND? How long will that take?  
  
Welir paused, consulted a small data tablet in his hand, then said at best, we may have a rudimentary understanding of the technologies at work here within three months, but that figure could be altered drastically in the face of unexpected developments.  
  
Jinnai's left eyebrow crooked upward dangerously at that last remark, and his face had just begun to turn red when Welir seemed to realize that he was seriously in danger of breaking Nahato's first rule of dealing with their mad taskmaster; pander to his ego before he gets angry with you. So he added hastily, Which may include unpredictable patterns in enemy troop movements, or the discovery of an alternate power source. The timetable for something this delicate can be easily disrupted, but if things go according to plan we will have the first rough outline within the month.  
  
This seemed to calm Jinnai's temper again. In truth he hadn't expected them to make promises about accomplishing anything within the year, let alone a bare four weeks from now.  
  
he barked, as long as you make good on your promises, shadow, you'll get your reward, when the time comes for me to crush that insignificant bastard Makoto into the ground once and for all! WAAAAHH HA HA HA HA HA, UHA, UHA, UHA HA HA!  
  


****  


  
Are you certain you can reach her?  
  
We are Wraiths. We never fail to eliminate our target.  
  
Ah, but this girl is the sole exception, is she not?  
  
Kariya acted independently of the Council. She moved as an individual, as one. We are stronger than that.  
  
Don't be foolish. The security around the Palace is tighter than ever, the royal family protected by the powers of the off-worlders. We do not know what this boy from Earth is capable of; he could ruin our plans in an instant.  
  
He will not be present when we strike. He is at the heretic Temple, and the Priestesses of Muldoon are occupied in a vain attempt to find the Trigger. There will be no one to stop us this time.  
  
Except the girl.  
  
She is no threat. By herself she is helpless, and the guards from the palace are of no consequence themselves.  
  
Ah. So you seek the permission of the Council to engage in this foolishness? Why should they give it? You must know that our safeguards against the madman are not yet ready. If we were to reveal our plans too early, our hand would be weakened, perhaps fatally.  
  
You assume that we will fail.  
  
You assume that you will succeed.  
  
Let us try. You agree that the girl must die to ensure our continued safety, at least?  
  
Of course I do, but now is not the time to deal with her.  
  
There will never be a _better_ time! The Kingdom is still in shock after our first attack; if we wait, they may regain their senses. We should strike now while this opportunity is still at hand!  
  
I will not be rushed in such a matter. I will consider your proposal-  
  
  
  
-While the final preparations for the second attack are being made. There is still too much to be done, and we require your skills in this matter to ensure our success. Do not fail me, and I will select you to kill Nanami when the council has decided it is time.  
  
Thank you, Lord Nahato.


	11. High expectations

::Chapter Four::  
  


The small white target at the end of the range shattered with satisfying intensity, and Nanami looked up over her scope with a bright smile plastered all over her face. That was the fourth out of ten that she'd managed to disintegrate, a wonderful improvement considering that one week ago she'd never touched so much as a water gun. But Londs was proving a patient and able teacher, and while his training regimen for her seemed a bit harsh compared to what the rest of the Royal Guard was subjected to, she was in total agreement with his reasoning for it.  
  
And hard as it was she couldn't quite bring herself to hate him for it, especially not after he'd granted her one request to have Katsuhiko's face painted on each of the targets. Her aim had improved tenfold because of it, and this last session had been her best yet.  
  
said Londs. His tone made it a compliment.  
  
said Fatora listlessly. She'd been forced to come to every single practice session -two hours, three times a day, every day of the week- since Nanami had first started, and she'd ranted and raved at Londs about the arrangements. Until he'd asked her if she wanted to put herself into the hands of the Phantom Tribe by staying an easy target. While Fatora resented the implication that she was unable to protect herself, the memory of what had happened the last time she'd been abducted was more than enough to convince her that this was for her own good. That hadn't kept her from voicing her annoyance with virtually everything else in the palace from the servants to the warm summer breeze.  
  
Gee, I'm really getting better, aren't I? Nanami asked brightly as she swung her rifle down beside her.  
  
said Londs, your aim has improved tremendously. But you are still far behind the other guards in marksmanship, and we must continue to...  
  
He was interrupted when a messenger trotted up to them and bowed. Londs turned slightly towards him and nodded for him to continue. Your Highnesses, Sir Londs, Miss Nanami; Makoto sends word that he and Dr. Stalubaugh have discovered the formula they have been searching for! And that you should join them as soon as you possibly can in the underground facility.  
  
At this news everyone looked up in interest, except Alielle, who had been napping lightly on Fatora's elbow. Nanami pushed her goggles up onto her forehead, then disarmed her rifle and slung it over her shoulder. Fatora nudged Alielle to wake her, and the little woman squeaked gently efore she stirred.  
  
Come on, Alielle, Fatora prodded.  
  
Yawn. Hmmm? Aw, where do we have to go now?  
  
Probably some smelly old lab. Makoto's figured out his flying thingie, how to make it work, Fatora replied nonchalantly.  
  
Alielle's stomach nearly lept up her throat. Ah, okay, she managed to say, then hurried off after Londs before Fatora could ask any questions.  
  


****  


  
If the sight wasn't impressive enough itself, then the noise certainly was. They were standing in one compartment of the underground docking bay, and even though most of the room in the center of the gigantic cavern had been designated for Makoto's use, there were innumerable projects going on around them. Strange machines beeped as the Princesses walked by, long black tubes pulsated as liquids were fed into enormous tanks lining the northern wall, and everywhere you looked there were scientists and mechanics in white coats and overalls tending to a hundred different tasks.  
  
The single greatest source of noise was by far the flyer that was hovering, tethered to the ground in at least ten different places, two meters in the air. The sails were slightly opaque and still had a great deal of testing equipment attached to them, but the odd thing about it was the fact that a sound not entirely unlike the one John's car made was coming from the teardrop-shaped pod that the sails were attached to.  
  
There was quite a bit of air being directed into an oval duct that hung like a mouth beneath the front of the pod, and there were tubes connected to the exhaust pipes in the rear. A heat-distorted jet of air emanated from the tail as the flyer tugged forward against its restraints.  
  
Makoto and Dr. Stalubaugh were huddled together next to one of the tethers, poking at something on a data pad and nodding a lot to each other, when the Princesses approached them. Dr. Stalubaugh turned around and flipped the lens on his monocular up. He and Makoto were festooned with various examination instruments, similar to what the royal scientists were wearing, but much more complicated.  
  
Ah, it is good to see you, Your Highnesses. I am pleased to tell you that we have discovered a combination of naturally-occuring fossil fuels and chemical additives which will allow us to power these vehicles, he said.  
  
Makoto finished his calculations and looked up. Yeah, we were worried about heat expulsion, since this engine block was never designed to run as hot for as long as we'll be pushing it, but it turns out that with a few modifications, the gel that's used to cool the gigantic engines in the _Caravans _can be used to provide a degree of protection against...  
  
Yes, well, Dr. Stalubaugh interrupted him, suffice it to say we are ready to test this prototype. The final preparations and safety checks are being completed now. Alielle, your safety equipment is in that locker. He pointed to a trunk that was sitting in a pile of tools and spare parts, and Rune, Fatora and Nanami's eyes grew wide when she stepped forward hesitantly.  
  
Hey, you never told me about this! Fatora yelled at Alielle and pointed to the flyer. I certainly don't want you going up in that thing when it hasn't even been tested! You could be killed!  
  
Yeah Alielle, said Nanami, just what do you think you're doing?  
  
Alielle seemed to consider this for a second, before she responded. She put her hands on her hips and as much assurance into her voice as she could muster. I'm doing my part to help the Kingdom. I wasn't too thrilled about it when I first told master Makoto that I would help him any way I could. But the more I thought about it, the less scared I got. At least, until now. She looked up at the prototype again, then marched ahead towards her locker.  
  
Fatora was enraged, and she wheeled around to face Londs. You! You've known about this all along! This is some sort of conspiracy to split us up, I know it! And after all this time, to think that...  
  
Londs began to massage a spot on his temple gently, then raised his voice to interrupt. Princess Fatora, Alielle volunteered for this duty. Until we finalize the design for the engine we had to build the smallest possible cockpit. And she is quite an accomplished pilot in her own right; in fact, has she not flown your own personal cruiser on several occasions?  
  
This gave Fatora pause. Well, yes, but-  
  
-But nothing! Alielle interrupted her. This was my decision, love, and now it's my job to make sure these things can win the war for us. All I could do the last time the Bugrom attacked was scream and look cute, but this time around I'm gonna do whatever I can to make sure they get mashed into the ground permanently!  
  
Alielle stomped her foot on the ground, and there was silence for a few seconds. She seemed to accept this as a tacit confirmation of their support for her decision, and turned back around and walked silently to her locker, picked out a duffle bag, and went over to a small set of restrooms.  
  
Rune turned to her sister. She's really taking this whole thing seriously. You should be proud of her.  
  
ARGH! I can't believe you'd take her side in this! Fatora screamed and stormed off, nearly knocking over several of the guards that had followed their procession into the bay. Nanami shrugged her shoulders as she left.  
  
Gosh, what a crybaby! I can't believe the nerve of that girl, trying to keep Alielle from doing anything at all. She's not a kid, you know.  
  
Londs gestured at four of the guards, and they bowed slightly before running after Fatora. This Second Great War weighs heavily on the members of the royal house. It is their duty to ensure that Roshtaria is not vanquished, and the stress they face without being able to rely on the Eye of God is considerable. Bear this in mind before you judge their actions too harshly, he said.  
  
Princess Rune gave him a reproving look. Londs, you don't have to make excuses for her behavior. Fatora has always been possessive when it came to Alielle. It's understandable that she would be concerned.  
  
She walked over to the flyer and ran her hand along the underbelly of the piloting pod. You've done a wonderful job with the design of this machine, Makoto, but I can't help but be concerned for the safety of whoever is flying them. The construction seems very fragile.  
  
Well, once we have solid figures for just how much weight the design will support, then we can begin to build safety systems into it, Makoto responded cheerfully after he'd finished blushing. I'd like to utilize honeycomb shaped frame members in the construction, which would reduce weight significantly without sacrificing structural integrity. But whether we can or not will depend on the success of this first test.  
  
He turned to look at Alielle, who had finished dressing in one of the restrooms and was walking back up to them. She was wearing one of the new flight jackets that would be the standard uniform for all of the members of the Royal Air Corps, a fur lined, dark brown leather jacket that would have looked remarkably like the Flying Tigers jackets used by the United States pilots in the days of propeller engines and unheated cockpits, except for the distinctly El-Hazardian collar and jeweled two-clasp front flap. She also wore a helmet and flight goggles, and mittens with the royal crest stitched on them.  
  
To any earthling, it might have looked silly. But her countenance was deadly serious, and she fussed a little bit with the straps on her goggles before looking up at Makoto.  
  
I'm ready, she said plainly, and Makoto smiled and nodded to her. He and Dr. Stalubaugh began shouting instructions to the surrounding scientists, and five minutes later the flyer was on the ground and being wheeled out of the mechanics area towards the empty cruiser which would carry it out of the city.  
  


****  
  


John's forehead resembled a topographical map of the Grand Canyon, scrunched up with the force of concentration he was exerting. His hand was out in front of him, and the amber and quartz jewels on his lamp were glowing bright.  
  
There was a stone wall in front of him. Or at least, what appeared to be a wall, except for the large globular distortion that was forming in the center of it. A meter wide section of the wall seemed to be twisting around itself, rippling and distorting as John attempted to pierce through the illusion and see to the other side.  
  
The distortion grew wider, then shrank again, and after a few seconds of struggling John was finally forced to give up. He dropped to the floor, exhausted, and he stared at the wall with his jaw open for several seconds before a disembodied voice spoke to him through it.  
  
You cannot defeat an illusion by trying to force it to dissipate. Particularly not when it's being created by a person with years of professional training in creating them. You must instead _bypass_ it, by using a single ray of light from the other side of it to create a link that you can follow through it. No illusion can be totally perfect, but they can come very close.  
  
The wall faded away quickly, to reveal the other half of the room. The Great Priestess of Light Cerin Tallahn stood up from her chair and walked over to John, her short locks of golden hair bouncing softly above eerily bright green eyes. She was half a head shorter than John but dominated the space around her with her sharp intelligence and powerful charisma. It was difficult _not_ to feel intimidated in her presence, and while she wasn't as busty as some of her fellow priestesses she was more than attractive enough to make John ill at ease whenever she turned those eyes on him.  
  
Afura did an excellent job with your initial training, she continued in a lecturing voice worthy of a high professor, but there are many finer points and techniques you must learn if you are to be of any help in locating the Phantom Tribe.  
  
John nodded tiredly. Yeah, I know, there's always more to learn, blah blah blah, so if you're all so great at this why _haven't_ you found them yet? I mean, you've been searching for years, right?  
  
Because their talents work on several different principals, and are more powerful than what we are capable of controlling ourselves. It is Mother Moram's hope that your unique gift will make it possible to amplify our talents enough to defeat their defenses, but that will never happen if you do not understand first what exactly we are trying to do.  
  
She answered him directly, ignoring the implied insult in his question, and he blushed slightly under her gaze as he realized that she would not respond to the harassment he usually doled out for his teachers. She'd made it clear from the beginning that he was here of his own volition, and could leave at any time, but that the fate of an entire kingdom could rest on how well he did in learning her craft.  
  
So, let's try it, he said.  
  
  
  
I can somehow help you control your powers to a greater degree than you normally could on your own, right? So, don't you want to see what you could be capable of? he asked.  
  
Cerin thought for a second. she said, this might help to show you what we'll be up against.  
  
She walked up to him and placed her own hand on the quartz of his lamp. Immediately, her own lamp began to glow brightly in tune with his. She closed her eyes, and the room they were in disappeared in a bright white light for a few seconds. When it faded John was greeted with a sight unlike anything else in his experience.  
  
The Temple Home was gone. All of the acolytes and priestesses were still there, many of them hanging in midair as the floors that supported them were rendered invisible. The walls, the bookcases, the tables and chairs, even the food in the mess area disappeared in front of everyone's eyes. The great slab of granite that the Temple rested on was plainly visible ten meters beneath John's feet, and he fought the giddy sense of vertigo his senses insisted that he feel he turned his head around slowly to look at everyone else's faces.  
  
To his astonishment Headmistress Moram was just a few feet away. She had obviously been walking towards his room, but now she was standing there, looking at the two of them with an expression of bemused tolerance. Everyone else was confused, at least, but most seemed content to wait the phenomenon out. This was obviously not the first time something inexplicable had happened at the Temple.  
  
John spent a good twenty seconds gazing at the thousands of acolytes that filled the air around him, before he realized that something else quite extraordinary had happened. Cerin was no longer holding his arm. In fact, she'd stopped concentrating on the effect all together, and her eyes were as wide as his own.  
  
How are you, I mean, this shouldn't be _possible!_ said Cerin.  
  
And yet, you see with your own eyes that it is, said Mother Moram, who was now standing next to John and Cerin and grinning broadly. We knew that your gift was unique, young John, but we were unsure of it's extent until now. You have proven that not only can a trained Priestess accomplish feats beyond her own ability when done in harmony with your power, but that you can somehow maintain the effect without concentration or force of will.  
  
Uh, that's great, said John after he'd stared for a few moments longer. So how do I stop it?  
  
An interesting question, replied Moram, since it seems that you are not controlling this effect consciously. Perhaps right now you are seeing what you expect to see, and inadvertently projecting that expectation through your power. Close your eyes, and invision what the Temple looked like before.  
  
John did as he was told, forming a very solid mental picture of the room he was in, the hallway outside, and most importantly banishing the image of several scantily clad girls trying desperately to cover themselves three doors down in the locker room.  
  
When he opened his eyes again, everything was back to normal. Cerin had banished the dumbfounded look from her face and now seemed to be considering John very seriously. Everything was so quiet as she gathered her thoughts that John nearly leapt when she spoke again.  
  
We're going to have to be very careful with how we utilize this power of yours, John, because it seems that you can't control it yet, she said.  
  
He looked down at his feet. Yeah, I guess it is still kinda new to me. I mean, I wasn't even trying to do anything. All I felt was your- he gestured at Cerin -energy flowing through my lamp, and it seemed like it was just staying there. I didn't know you'd stopped trying until I saw that you weren't right next to me anymore.  
  
said Moram, we must be very careful. We should limit any techniques we try to harmonize with you to non-lethal ones. But we must discover if this is something that you can control in any way; it would be far less dangerous for you.  
  
It's different when I'm using the techniques that Shayla and Afura taught me, said John, because I guess it takes a conscious effort to initiate them. I suppose that if I'm concentrating on achieving something specific, I can decide when I want it to stop.  
  
Moram looked thoughtful for a second. That is possible. Perhaps we should try something a bit different, but this time, away from the Temple.  
  


****  


  
Half an hour later, because Moram had insisted on walking outside herself and no one dared suggest that she required help, the three of them were standing on another outcropping of rock that overlooked a patch of totally barren landscape. Not so much as a weed was growing in an area that had to be several kilometers on a side.  
  
They found a tree trunk and walked Mother Moram over to it, and when she sat down she said to John, The acolytes for the Circles of Wind, Water, and Earth keep this area free of all life for training purposes. It is very important for an elemental priestess to remain in harmony with the natural elements she commands; otherwise, they may turn on her. It took many years to coax the plant life out of this area without upsetting nature, and it is here that a priestess first learns to harness her powers.  
  
John nodded, then took a look out over the landscape for himself. So. What were you planning to do?  
  
Cerin answered him, what I'd like to do first is see just how powerful an illusion you can create on your own. Give me a yardstick for just how far you have to go.  
  
John replied, I guess, there's something I've kinda wanted to try ever since I got this thing. He brushed his left hand over the amber jewel in his lamp, and a brilliant ray of light shot from his hand into the training area.  
  
A gigantic, twisting form began to take shape from the point where his first ray terminated, and a series of lesser rays began to coarse between the shape and his lamp. They teased the edges of the shape outward, and as it expanded the edges became gradually more defined. There was soon a definite central mass, with two thinner but longer extrusions coming from either end. The light began to shift color, from bright gold to orange to fiery red, and then something like a head appeared at the very end of the shape.  
  
John continued to concentrate immensely on it, and after a few seconds a set of wings unfurled itself from the middle of the shape. Feet and hands grew out from the bottom, the tail grew a spear at the tip, and a gigantic, slightly insubstantial but truly impressive red dragon reared it's head above them. It stretched from one end of the horizon to the other, and may have been utterly terrifying had it made a single noise that would commonly be associated with such a large beast. But because it was only a trick of the light, there was no sound except for the wind, and the heavy breathing coming from John as he put every ounce of effort he could muster into making his dragon as real as possible.  
  
But for all his effort, the illusion didn't last very long. It was simply too big to maintain, for one thing, and after a few more seconds of thrashing about it flickered heavily and disappeared. John lowered his hand, and turned around.  
  
That was, well, impressive, said Cerin slowly, but not really likely to fool anyone. You did well in forming it, though, that was a very difficult sort of thing to attempt.  
  
Yes, it was, said Moram. Then she turned to Cerin. Now, it's your turn.  
  
Cerin took a deep breath, walked over to John, and put her hand on his lamp. But before anything happened, she addressed him. There are other uses for this power, and it's important that you understand the differences between creating false images for amusement, and using the light for a definite purpose.  
  
She closed her eyes, and the world around them flashed by in an instant. They left the training grounds, sped across the landscape, and faster than you could snap your fingers appeared in the middle of the Muldoon Temple.  
  
We're not really here, Cerin said while John was trying to regain his balance, I am simply projecting our own image into the middle of the real Temple, while simultaneously transferring the light from this same area to our surroundings. It's an excellent method of communication, and thanks to you, it could now be maintained indefinitely.  
  
She took her hand off his arm, and continued, if you look around, you'll notice that we're actually surrounded by the light from the training grounds. If anyone were to look at us there, they would see us standing in the Temple. But for those who are in the Temple, it appears that we are standing at the training grounds. It's a very complex exchange.  
  
John nodded dumbly. So, since you're no longer trying to do this...  
  
...you should be able to end it at any time, Cerin finished.  
  
said John.   
  
He flexed his fingers a few times, and stared at the lamp on his wrist as though examining it for the first time. Then he closed his eyes, and concentrated on the image of Cerin, Moram and himself at the training grounds, and of trying to reverse whatever the hell it was he was doing.  
  
Um, John? Cerin's voice broke into his concentration.  
  
Hang on, he puffed in response, I think I've just about got it!  
  
He opened his eyes again, and everything seemed to be back to normal. He was standing a step away from Cerin, who was looking at something just over his right shoulder with great interest. She raised her eyebrows at him, and John turned around gingerly.  
  
One of the acolytes of the Muldoon Temple was standing there, looking around in confusion. She noticed Cerin, then Mother Moram, and bowed at once. Moram simply nodded, then the acolyte stood up and made a series of very complicated hand gestures. John watched, but he'd never learned sign language on earth, and this seemed to be far, _deeper_ somehow. Cerin responded with an equally elaborate display of her own which seemed to include one or two gestures that were directed at him. When she finished, the acolyte nodded in understanding, glanced sideways at John, then turned around and walked off without ever saying a word.  
  
Wait a minute, John said, she's walking back out to the fields. Doesn't she know that's the wrong way back?  
  
Cerin looked straight at him. she commanded.  
  
John turned back around to look at the acolyte, just in time to see her turn to the left and disappear abruptly. He started to say something, but then it donned on him what had happened. He'd inadvertently amplified the effect of Cerin's technique instead of reversing it, and although it looked like they were back at the grounds, he was in reality still projecting their image into the Muldoon Temple, only he'd replaced the entire Temple with the image of the grounds.  
  
Cerin sighed patiently, and Mother Moram chuckled slightly to herself.  
  
You still need a lot of work, young John, she said.


	12. Soaring

The sky was clear, at least, and the circular takeoff area had been cleared out of the surrounding forests in at least a hundred-meter diameter around the flyer. But Alielle's nerves were singing as the final preflight checklist was being completed. Makoto, Dr. Stalubaugh, and the rest of the royal entourage were watching from a position on the edge of the clearing, and the fact that their observation area had been heavily insulated against the possibility of an explosion was not exactly helping to calm her.  
  
She looked over at the shielded dome once again, and her mind insisted on making a perfect memory out of everyone's faces, lest it be the last time she saw them. There was Makoto, smiling and waving at her as though she'd just gone off for an afternoon stroll; Dr. Stalubaugh engrossed in some final calculations, glancing up at her every once in a while and nodding about something to himself; Nanami and Rune Venus holding Fatora back from clawing at the triple-paned glass and demanding to be let out. Alielle sighed. It was always good to know that she was truly loved, but she wished that sometimes Fatora wouldn't make such a show of it. It seemed too selfish, somehow.  
  
Alielle waited for one more second, then turned back to her displays and forced herself to concentrate. It wouldn't do anyone any good for her to be distracted at this critical juncture, and she fixated on the small countdown timer that was slowly blinking down to the time when she was supposed to launch.  
  
The mechanics swarming around the flyer like worker bees disconnected what seemed like dozens of hoses and cables, shut off the valves, and double-checked all the external telltales. Once everything was greenlighted, the field master held up his red baton until everyone else had left the field.  
  
As soon as the last engineer had stepped off the clearing into the mechanic's tent, the field master moved his baton down so that it was level with the field, and Alielle took one deep breath before she pushed in the pedal on her left hand side, the as Makoto had called it, and pressed the big red button on her panel marked .  
  
****  
  
I can't believe she'd do something like this to me, Fatora said plainly. She had finally calmed down after Rune had threatened to make her the head of the diplomatic envoy to Laideen, the northernmost and most fridgid allied nation.  
  
Oh, knock it off, Nanami demanded, Alielle's old enough to be able to, hey, wait a minute. Just how old is she?  
  
Fatora blushed ever so slightly. I, uh, I mean, that's none of your business! And besides, I'd be just as concerned for the safety of whoever was going to test that thing, whether they happened to be my lover or not.  
  
She crossed her arms and looked back out through the glass, and Nanami fumed. But her reply was cut short by Dr. Stalubaugh.  
  
Quiet, all of you! She's about to take off.  
  
****  
  
The design of the cockpit was a work of last-minute inspiration, adaptation of current technologies, and brutal necessity. Instead of the standard dual sensory control pads, there was only one for the left hand. It of course had twice as many controls on it, and it had been a challenge to design one that wouldn't be too large for Alielle's small hands to use. Directly in front of here were direction, altitude, fuel level and temperature gauges, and two dozen different buttons and dials that regulated them. And, strangest of all, on her right hand side was the gear shift. The numbers on top of it had been covered with standard Roshtarian digits, but the large that stood out on it's own line separate from the H pattern was still there.  
  
Makoto had tried to explain all the technical reasons why they couldn't build a jet engine that could go in reverse yet, and they hadn't dared try to modify the transmission from the Mustang any more than they absolutely had to. But before he'd had a chance to get started on another lecture, she'd knocked him in the head to stop. So he had simply warned her not to use reverse. It should be unnecessary in any event, since it would almost certainly be faster to simply turn the flyer around than wait for it to pick up the reverse gear, but the consequences could be -_colorful,_ was the word he had used- if she were to use it accidentally.  
  
The START button was the ignition for the engine, and it roared to life with reassuring ease when she pulled her finger from the panel and moved it to the big green one marked SAIL. This one activated the dual sails on either side of her, and when she pressed it a more familiar whine filled the cockpit momentarily as energy was pumped into the sails.  
  
An opaque white sheet moved across the empty frames to fill them, and when it did the flyer began to lift off the ground. Slowly, at first, as Alielle had set the power to it's lowest levels, but after the first ten seconds in the air with no malfunctions, she notched the power higher, and the flyer moved upwards with surprising ease. She reached the top of the trees, and glanced out over the forest quickly.  
  
It was gorgeous. There was something especially exciting about being just above the tree line, staring out over the seemingly endless forest, and she savored this moment before the first slight sense of vertigo set itself in her stomach. Her seat was firm beneath her, but the knowledge that it wasn't attached to anything but this cockpit and two fragile sails turned her earlier nervousness into outright panic, but as soon as it had threatened to take over her senses she forced it back. There was too much riding on this flight to loose it all to a sudden fear like this, and she took a few more deep breaths before she was sure she'd banished it.  
  
Instead, she concentrated on the sounds of the engine as it idled gently, the breeze as it whipped past her cockpit, and her own heart as it slowed and stopped thumping in her ears like a war drum. Then she moved her hand to the gear shift, and pushed it up into first gear.  
  
It clinked smoothly, and she silently thanked John's attention to detail as she gradually reduced her pressure on the clutch. The pedal came back two centimeters, then three, until she felt the transmission begin to grab. Immediately the sound of the jet engine beginning to spin up assailed her ears; they hadn't told her it would be _this _loud in here! Then her right foot depressed the gas pedal, and the engine monitor noted the increase in RPMs obediently as she moved the pedals back and forth with the timing of a race car driver.  
  
****  
  
It looks as though the sail's geometry was designed perfectly, Dr. Stalubaugh said in a complementary tone, and Makoto examined the hard data on his pad before looking up at the flyer, which was now easing it's way out of the landing area.  
  
Yeah, I just hope that the pressure in the coolant system isn't too much for that radiator to handle. Instead of thanking the doctor for his praise, Makoto seemed intent on criticizing his own work. Nanami noticed the edge of nervousness in his voice, and she put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
I think everything'll be just fine, she said reassuringly. Makoto looked at her and smiled sadly, then went back to double-checking his data.  
  
****  
  
The flyer was now moving forward at a good clip, almost up to a quarter the speed of an average cruiser. Alielle let her left foot up until the clutch stopped moving, and then pressed the gas down harder. The jet engine was definitely moving air now, and as the American 289 V8 climbed it's RPMs she began to coast forward faster and faster. She kept the gas pedal in until the gauges all told her to change gears, and then she pushed the clutch in all the way again and put the shifter in second gear.  
  
When she took it away the second time the flyer leapt ahead as the Mustang's prime acceleration gear took hold, and the trees below her began to pass by much more quickly. The jet engine was gulping air now with a great appetite, and Alielle relished in the adrenaline rush of speed she was feeling until a beeping indicator told her that she was beginning to leave the approved testing area.  
  
Gingerly she manipulated the control in her left hand to bank the flyer to the left, and pulled the nose around in an arc. As soon as the indicator stopped blinking she leveled out slightly, and began to circle around the small clearing, and then moved into third gear.  
  
One of the gauges in her cluster dropped abruptly, and Alielle was pressed back into her seat as the V8 found it's optimum torque range once more. The treetops were rushing by her canopy now with surprising speed, and she let out a whoop of excitement as the engine topped out again, and she put it into fourth gear. Her altimeter had held steady for most of the flight, but her speed gauge reported that she was now moving more than three times as fast as the fastest _Caravan_ could manage, and almost half again faster than their smallest scout craft! Her eyes went wide as the speedometer continued to climb, then another red light began to blink.  
  
She'd reached the red line of the Mustang engine, and her attention turned to the temperature sensor. But everything was still within operating limits, and she eased off the gas pedal slightly and let the engine hang at 4,000 RPMs.  
  
****  
  
Dr. Stalubaugh nodded to himself, and said absentmindedly, She should be reaching her maximum speed right about this time. All of our spotters have reported that there seem to be no troubles with the craft.  
  
Makoto and Fatora's shoulders sagged in unison and they let out a deep breath as each of them felt their own kind of relief at the news. Then they realized what they'd just done, and spun around, and Makoto busied himself with his pad again as Fatora turned to look furtively out the window.  
  
****  
  
This was more thrilling, in it's own way, than anything Alielle had ever experienced, and she had yet to come anywhere close to the flyer's maximum altitude! But she wasn't supposed to test that out until they were sure that her first flight had gone perfectly, and so after what seemed like hours of flying her wide circle around the test site she depressed the clutch, and put the engine back into third gear.  
  
At once she began to slow down, and the sails strained as they took more of the stress of keeping the flyer in the air. She'd been told to slow down as gradually as she could manage, and so it was fifteen minutes later that she finally brought the nose around hard and headed straight for the clearing, the V8 and the jet engine idling softly. As soon as she was over the clearing Alielle pulled up hard on the controls, and the flyer bled the last of it's forward momentum before she gradually let the sails out.  
  
The flyer dipped down slowly, the landing skids deployed, and it came to rest gently on it's haunches as the last bit of energy left the sails. They went back to being empty frames, and Alielle slid open a small panel and pressed the kill switch. The engine shut off abruptly, and she undid her safety restraints and grabbed the latch for the cockpit with two shaking hands, and pulled it open to greet the sea of smiling faces and cheers that had filled the landing area.  
  
****  
  
Twelve thousand, seven hundred seventy-five. Give or take a few.  
  
This was the most depressing number Jinnai had ever seen, for by his own math it represented the entirety of the Bugrom race. Or, less than one sixth of the current Roshtarian Army, as far as his scouts and the Phantom Tribe had been able to estimate. Of course, the exchange rate in the last war had been so drastically skewed that Jinnai could have counted on defeating the Alliance handily with as little as a tenth of their strength in numbers. But he didn't like the reports of the new weapons they were using, and the wilder rumors about some sort of aircraft being developed made him more uneasy than he would care to admit.  
  
But he still had two very important advantages, and they might just be enough to win him his first few victories. The first was total surprise. Since the Alliance hadn't even gotten close to finding his new base or the tunnels yet, he could count on being able to strike wherever, whenever he wanted, and despite their size the Royal Army would almost certainly be understrength if he chose a few of their less well-protected targets to attack first. Oh, he could nibble at their heels, kill a few hundred soldiers at a time and gradually eat away at their moral and manpower, but that kind of attritional warfare could only end badly for the Bugrom. The longer they took to crush Roshtaria, the longer Roshtaria had to crush them, and if he used the bulk of his force for the attacks, then his base would by necessity be open to attack if it were to be discovered.  
  
The second advantage was the Phantom Tribe, at least for now. They could make sure that his base stayed hidden, even if the Roshtarians were standing right on top of it. But while they displayed total confidence in their ability to do anything Jinnai asked, he knew that some of them were nervous about the American boy and what he might be doing at the heretic Temple. As far as Jinnai was concerned Makoto had brought him back from earth to command the new Royal Army, which was just one more in a long list of reasons to get rid of Mizuhara once and for all. But if that was true, why was he spending all his time with the harpies, instead of the military troops?  
  
No, something was definitely going on, and that made it time to plan the next phase of his strategy. he yelled at his perpetual right-hand bug, go get that kid, Nahato. Bring him to the War Room, and make sure you stay with him all the way over here. I want you there too, so I don't have to explain all this ten times to the rest of the troops.  
  
Groucho mumbled his response, then left at a run, and Jinnai worked his way through the confusion that still permeated the central hive, which was made easier by the fact that the Bugrom nearly fell over themselves to clear a path for him. He stepped into the throne room, and looked up at Diva, who was resting on her perch.  
  
The time has come, Diva, Jinnai proclaimed loudly, we must now convince the Alliance that our strength is unopposable and their domination inevitable. The second phase is now in full swing, and soon we will crush the...  
  
That's wonderful, Jinnai, Diva interrupted him, her tone flat and bored, but do you really need me to watch you plan this out?  
  
Jinnai facefaulted. Diva had been moody as of late, as the strain of nearly constant reproduction took it's toll on her body and soul. And while she clearly had no great mind for battle strategy, Jinnai had savored her total support for his decisions at every turn. It was part and parcel of what made him so totally confident in himself, but it was getting harder to make their relationship seem normal in front of the Bugrom hordes as she grew more weary by the day.  
  
I, uh, well, it's... he fumbled.  
  
Then leave me rest, Diva finished. She pushed herself heavily off of her throne, and walked out without so much as glancing at him. Jinnai watched her go as an uneasy lump developed in his stomach. For years, their shared goal had been the total conquest of El Hazard, but after the emotional devastation of loosing what had been -for all intents and purposes- her entire civilization, and the pain of being the only person who could rebuild it, the weight on her shoulders was greater than anyone should have to bear alone.  
  
And she was alone, in that sense, for while she needed Jinnai in order to reestablish the Bugrom race, his sole interest was in defeating the Alliance. While that had been more than enough reason to keep him around in the beginning, his near total lack of interest in _her_ welfare beyond her ability to produce more warriors made her task a lonely one, and she was beginning to wonder if a future as the ruler over all the world would be worth it if she had to share it with him.  
  
Diva walked through the hallways without looking at anyone else, and her mind was busy. Jinnai didn't know the truth of the Bugrom's existence because Diva knew it wouldn't have made a bit of difference to him. He didn't know that the Bugrom had once been enslaved by the ancients of El Hazard, the perfect worker race that had built the greatest buildings and weapons of their age. He didn't know that Diva -as a precursor to the development of the Demon Gods- had been genetically engineered to be their the unthreatening human-like link between the Bugrom slave hordes and their masters.  
  
He didn't know that she would live forever while he grew old and withered, with the consequences of their shared actions her only permanent companion. Or that when the ancients engaged in that great massive slaughter known as the Holy Wars, Diva herself had led what Bugrom she could save across the River of God, and built an army to take the lands from her war-ravaged creators.  
  
But while she commanded the undying loyalty of her race, she'd discovered early on that she simply had no talent for military operations. Despite all the advantages she had over the remnants of the ancients, she had been unable to overthrow them. So through the ages she had waited, clinging to the scraps of legend that the ancients had written before their demise, praying for the day when a great leader would come to bring them to their final victory. And while Roshtaria had lost most of it's history to the Holy Wars, along with the knowledge that they had spawned their greatest enemies, their own legends told of a race steeped in hatred and revenge against all of El Hazard, whom the sage, prophet and Great Priest Karali Wren had warned would return one day to conquer them.  
  
She wanted revenge. She wanted all the humans in El Hazard to pay for the horrors race had been forced to endure for centuries. And she knew that Jinnai was her best chance to get it, but one of the problems with the Holy Wars was that it had left precious few ancients alive, and by this point it was their descendants that populated the nations of the Alliance. She could no longer make the scientists and politicians that had ordered her creation fear her, and it depressed her to know that the thousands of soldiers her troops had killed didn't even realize the significance of their deaths, or the events that surrounded them.  
  
The Bugrom, Jinnai, the Phantom Tribe, and all of Roshtaria were being swept along the currents of history. No one knew yet where it would end, but for the first time in her thousands of years as Queen, Diva was afraid of the future.  
  
****  
  
I'm glad you came to see me, Afura. I was beginning to think I'd scared you off completely.  
  
Afura smiled at John, and said, Well, everyone else back home was beginning to wonder what was going on out here.  
  
Oh, and I'm sure you weren't curious at all yourself? John asked in his best sarcastic voice.  
  
Afura's cheeks heated slightly. I guess, I suppose I was. You have to understand that this whole situation is very unusual, and that Cerin... her voice trailed off.  
  
John was puzzled. What about her?  
  
For one, she entered her training at a, late, age, Afura began carefully. They were sitting on the patio dining area of the Temple Home, overlooking a vast stretch of forest and plains with the small city of Yost nestled against the mesa that the Temple rested on. The sun was setting, which also had the effect of making their view very romantic. John nodded for her to continue.  
  
So she always seemed like she knew more about the outside world than the rest of us ever would, at least when it came to things like dating, she finished awkwardly.  
  
Ah hah, said John helpfully. You know, I was always kind of clumsy with that sort of thing myself.  
  
Afura looked at him. But, you seemed so confident that day on Mt. Muldoon, when you asked me to come with you to Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony, that, I thought...  
  
You thought I knew what I was doing? John asked incredulously. That'll be the day. Ha! I was never more nervous in my life than when I asked you out. I'm just really good at hiding it.  
  
I should say so, Afura replied, you had me totally fooled. So how are you coming along?  
  
John made a face. Yesterday I sucked all the light out of the Temple and flooded the valley with it. Some old men who were out late complained of being blinded. The villagers down there have to be confused beyond belief.  
  
Afura giggled, and John replied indignantly, Hey, that makes it real hard to get anything done down there in my time off! They all know I'm responsible whenever this sort of thing happens, so I can't walk down the street without scaring off little kids.  
  
This only made Afura laugh harder, and John found it difficult to be angry with her for making light of his situation. Somehow, and despite her reputation with the rest of the Seminary for aloofness -not to mention the first stormy month when she was mentoring him-, she made him feel like all of his problems with being forced into a new dimension didn't matter that much anymore. John couldn't have described it to you if you'd asked him to, he just knew he was a happier person whenever Afura was around him.  
  
And, though she'd never admit it, at least not yet, Afura was happier than she had been in years. As soon as she stopped laughing she said, I didn't think you'd be getting enough time off from studying for that to matter much.  
  
John made a throwaway gesture with his hand. Oh, well, Mor- I mean, Headmistress Moram thinks it's important for me to build up to this gradually. Those first weeks went by in a whirlwind, forgive the pun, and ever since I got here I've realized just how hard you all had to train to get where you are. It makes me feel kind of guilty, for just being able to do it without thinking.  
  
Afura leaned across the table and put a hand on his arm. Don't worry about it. You're from earth, so people will expect you to be different that way. Makoto, Nanami, and Mr. Fujisawa are leading perfectly normal lives now.  
  
said John, minus the Great War Hero' bit. I've never felt comfortable with being too popular, or at least I never really liked those people who were.  
  
Oh I think you'll get used to it, Afura said.  
  
He set his own hand on hers, and they looked deep into each other's eyes. And as the light of the setting sun cast it's last rays upon the scene and they bent closer to each other...  
  
Cerin walked right up to their table and sat her food down with a CLANG! that sent John right out of his seat. Oh, there you are, John! she said nonchalantly, I wondered if you'd finally tired of taking your breaks in that dreary little mountain village. Oh, hello, Afura.  
  
Her intrusion was so obviously designed to break the two of them up that for a few seconds neither John nor Afura quite knew how to respond. It was John that finally broke the silence.  
  
he began.  
  
You need to work on _calling_ the light, which is why I decided to wait until dark to start our next lesson. I just needed to grab a quick bite to eat before hand, but we should really get going soon. Cerin stuffed a bit of fried vegetable into her mouth, then turned to address Afura. How long are you going to be hanging around?  
  
The naked contempt in her tone was too much for Afura to take sitting down, and her eyes flashed with a brilliant spark of hatred. All around them, the winds began to pick up, tossing the first few fallen leaves of autumn around their table carelessly.  
  
We were having a conversation, Afura said levelly, her voice carrying an eerie echo in the wind, and I don't recall inviting you to join us.  
  
Cerin smiled grimly and swallowed her food. She hadn't realized that it would be this easy to provoke the seemingly unflappable Afura Mann, but she'd gotten right under her skin through her one, relatively new, weakness; John. Mother Moram specifically instructed me to spend as much time as I could with John while he's here, including meals. If you think that arrangement should be altered, then I'm sure you could talk to her yourself.  
  
John tried again to interject.  
  
I seriously doubt that she intended you to meddle in his personal affairs, too, Afura continued, ignoring him.  
  
Cerin stood up, and Afura followed her so quickly that it looked like they had timed it together. Each of them wore a predator's grin as various other acolytes and priestesses finally took notice of what was unfolding before them, and people began to gather around in anticipation of the coming fight.  
  
Stop it! John yelled at them, but they were focusing so intently on each other that they couldn't hear anyone else. For a split second there was perfect stillness. Then Afura spoke again.  
  
You've always been too prideful for your own good, she said in that same iron voice, and now you're finally going to be sorry for it.  
  
It's really too bad, Cerin replied, you were once the pride of the Seminary; top job on Muldoon, greatest windbag in our history. I just know your mommy would be proud if she could see you now, ready to brawl like a common street hustler.  
  
I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, if that's what it takes to keep your nose out of my business!  
  
Despite the risks to innocent bystanders, both priestesses began to gather, and had nearly let loose their first attack before something totally unexpected got in the way.  
  
That's ENOUGH! John cried out, and stood up between them. For a split second Afura and Cerin feared that he might be caught in between them, but his hands shot out in both their directions, and a human-sized tidal wave bore out and knocked them off their feet before they could finish casting.  
  
There was stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity, and then John spoke slowly. Both of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You, Cerin, for provoking Afura, and you, Afura, for allowing yourself to be provoked that way. I'm not even gonna TRY and sort this one out; you're going to have to deal with it like the priestesses you are, and not some four year-olds fighting over a toy.  
  
Both women could only stare in shock, drenched in freezing cold water, as John turned around quickly and left them to the crowds that had closed them in.


	13. The World of Fantastic Tales

::Chapter Six::  
  


Oh, he's so _cute!_ Nanami stroked the back of the emerald green ball of fur in her lap, and it turned it's feline eyes up to regard her with frank curiosity.  
  
I'm glad you like him, Londs replied cheerfully, for from this day forward he is yours to keep as a gift from the Royal House.  
  
Nanami froze. The cat had turned his chin up so that she could get -that spot- right below his jaw, but she wasn't scratching him anymore.  
  
Whaa, ah, why, I mean, are you serious?  
  
Londs nodded, still smiling. Lyn is the first of a new breed, the very latest advance in new armor production techniques. This was the least we could do to thank you, for giving up your own life to protect the Royal Family.  
  
Nanami's jaw came unhinged. She looked back down at the cat, who now appeared to be grinning broadly. He stood up, stretched out lazily, then with a familiar leapt up and wrapped himself around Nanami. But instead of simply protecting her upper body, as the rest of the cats did, his tail extended up the back of her neck and formed a protective cap that continued to the front of her head at the hairline, which made her hair stick out in odd tufts on the sides.  
  
she said again, utterly surprised by the feeling of having a large feline contract itself around her torso. When the shock had worn off, she began to twist around and examine herself. she marveled, this is amazing! I mean, I'd always wanted a pet, but mom could never have one in the house because she was so allergic to everything that if you even got her near one she'd puff up like a great big puffer fish and it would take her days to...  
  
Princess Rune interrupted politely, giving her a very reproving look.  
  
Oh, right, Nanami said, slightly embarrassed. She did her best to tuck her errant hair up underneath her helmet,' then smiled wide and said, Thank you guys so much!  
  
Londs cleared his throat. Well, now that that's been done, there is another occasion which we feel you might wish to attend. If you'll follow me?  
  
He turned around and walked out the door to the conference chamber they were in, and Nanami's head was full of questions as she and the princesses followed. They walked down the winding steps in the center of the Royal Palace, and out to a courtyard where a small transport was waiting to take them away. They boarded silently, and even though it was the middle of the day -and despite the fact that they were accompanied at all times by the requisite guard contingent- Nanami felt like they were sneaking out somewhere in the middle of the night. It reminded her of the time she and Makoto had darted out of school early to have lunch in the park, which is why it surprised her when they turned down the main boulevard and sped up to the open, yet still strangely imposing gates of the Royal Academy's Main Hall.  
  
The Hall was the second largest structure in the Kingdom, next to the Royal Palace itself, and although it's towers were nowhere near as tall as the Palaces', the campus was spread out on at least as much ground. All of the buildings were made of the same bleached white stone, and even though their surfaces were polished and kept up regularly they exuded a sense of ancient wisdom that was palpable from the streets.  
  
The gatekeeper saluted smartly almost as soon as they approached, which Nanami noticed and understood to mean that this was a pre-planned visit, no matter how secretive Londs seemed to be acting. They swept over the long, paved approach to the Hall and came to a stop only as they reached the gigantic white marble steps that led up to the entrance. Finally, Nanami could no longer restrain her curiosity.  
  
Hey Princess Rune, just what are we doing here? she asked in a conspiratorial tone, as they stepped off the transport.  
  
The princess simply looked at her, then smiled and turned to ascend the staircase, her robes flowing about her feet like uncertain ghosts. Londs and Fatora followed wordlessly, and Nanami watched them go ahead of her, before walking up herself.  
  


****  


  
Dr. Stalubaugh was waiting to greet them inside the entrance. He nodded to Londs, then said Your majesties, Miss Nanami, thank you for coming today. The ceremony will take place in our VIP reception area, which I have cleared for our use.  
  
Nanami raised her hand in front of her to speak, but before she'd gotten more than an out, the party was walking down the center of the Main Hall, and again Nanami noticed that everyone else but her seemed to be taking this in stride. All of the academics, teachers, students, and sages that lined the hall bowed as the princesses walked past, but while they were quite obviously awed by the presence of royalty, Nanami could only stare open-mouthed at the immensity of the hall. The structure was tiered like an oval shaped colosseum, with each containing nothing but tables, chairs, and endless shelves of books and scrolls. There were at least thirty floors like this, maybe more, and each one was open to the tremendous domed ceiling that filled the hall with brilliant sunlight.  
  
They walked down the center of the first floor that was as long as a football field, and through another set of doors into another grand hallway. Dr. Stalubaugh led them through a maze of halls and corridors, and eventually came to a small enclosed patio on the edge of a grassy field. There were a few other people milling about there, including Mr. and Mrs. Fujisawa, Shayla, Qawoor, and Alielle, who glomped on princess Fatora the second she walked in, but Nanami noticed immediately who was standing in the middle of it all.  
  
she yelled over the quite conversations that were going on, and marched up to him, what in the world's going on here? How come you didn't tell me about this, I've been worried sick! It's like there's some big conspiracy or something!  
  
Makoto smiled and put his hand on her arm to calm her. Relax, Nanami, I wanted to surprise you, that's all. I'm glad you could come on such short notice.  
  
Nanami just scowled. You still haven't told me what's going on.  
  
Oh, well, since Mr. Fujisawa's ceremony was such a big event, I really thought that it would be best to keep this one a little more private, so it didn't seem like I was trying to show him up or anything. Besides, Dr. Stalubaugh said that traditionally there isn't even a ceremony at all.  
  
Nanami asked pointedly.  
  
Makoto replied sheepishly, they're giving me a formal position in the Academy for all the work I've done on the Eye of God, and the flyers. It's no big deal really.  
  
Nanami was nearly apoplectic, and she grabbed his collar. NO BIG DEAL!? What in the world made you think that, Makoto? This is wonderful news, and you did your level best to keep it from me! OH!, there are times when that bookworm brain of yours makes me so angry I could...  
  
Excuse me, my dear, at that point Dr. Stalubaugh walked up to them and interrupted Nanami, but we're ready to begin. If you would please take your places.  
  
Nanami took a deep breath, shut her eyes, then looked at Makoto again, and her grin was broad as she said, You'll pay dearly for this someday, Makoto Mizuhara.  
  
He chuckled in response, then they hugged each other briefly and turned to take their place in the small crowd. Nanami folded her legs and sat on a cushion in between Qawoor, who was beaming annoyingly and staring with undisguised affection at Makoto, and Mr. Fujisawa, who was also beaming but with undisguised pride. He seemed to have a lump in his throat that he couldn't quite swallow, and so Nanami decided she would save the small talk for later.  
  
The buzz of conversation died down as Dr. Stalubaugh made his way to the front of the patio, and cleared his throat loudly. I believe, he began, that this is the largest group of people ever to witness the swearing in of a Fellow. But given the extraordinary events surrounding the poor lad, and his time here in El Hazard, I felt that every one of you should be present for this.  
  
Makoto, who was standing next to him, was clearly very embarrassed by the attention. The doctor turned around and gathered up from behind him a large white robe, which had been folded upon a pedestal, and he cleared his throat again before he continued.  
  
Makoto Mizuhara, let it be known in all the lands of El Hazard that from this day forth, by the powers entrusted to me by the Royal House of Venus, sovereign ruler of the Kingdom of Roshtaria, you are hereby granted a full Fellowship in the Academic Order of Roshtaria, with all the rights and privileges of your new station!  
  
The applause began, but Dr. Stalubaugh quickly interrupted it. And also, by the order of the Royal Family, in thanks for your tireless efforts to save this Kingdom from certain doom, you are hereby granted the honorary position of Second Scholar in the Royal Academy, and Advisor to the Royal Court, in light of my retirement from the position, effective this very day.  
  
Silence. Then, Makoto began to speak, hesitantly. But, Dr. Stalubaugh, I've hardly, I mean...  
  
The doctor turned his wistful gaze on Makoto, and his voice was husky as he spoke. My boy, you've done more to aid the royal family than anyone, even I could ever hope to equal. I will remain Dean of the Royal Academy, of course, but I am no longer as young as I used to be. Heh heh! I could think of no finer young man to replace me, but I must also confess that it was not entirely my idea.  
  
Makoto's curiosity was evident on his face, and the doctor continued, Princess Fatora was the first to recommend you for the position, as I recall.  
  
The crowd turned in unison to stare at the princess, who instead of blushing became very annoyed indeed. Well, it's not like I know that many brainiacs, she posited, and he's certainly done more than anyone I can remember to deserve the position. Dr. Stalubaugh is needed elsewhere, and as a Princess it's part of my royal privilege to appoint his replacement.  
  
If it was enough of an explanation for her, the rest of the crowd was clearly still confused. An awkward silence persisted until Makoto took off his overshirt, set it aside, and unfolded the clean white robe he'd been handed. He pulled it over each arm and fastened the clasps that were hidden behind a small stripe of light purple fabric that ran the length of the robe down the front and around the collar, and when he turned back around the crowd began to applaud again with renewed enthusiasm.  
  
As with Mr. Fujisawa's induction, it seemed to take forever to accept the congratulations of a dozen men he didn't know, but would soon be working with side by side. Then Mr. Fujisawa came up to him and nearly wept with pride.  
  
Oh, Makoto, he said in that painfully gruff voice of his, I'm so proud of you. You have honored the name of Shinonome throughout the universe! To think that you used to be my student, and here you are now, Advisor to the Royal Court, I guess, you don't really need a sensei anymore.  
  
Mr. Fujisawa began to weep noisily and gripped Makoto's shoulders with such fervor that he nearly suffocated. That's nonsense! You'll always be my sensei, Mr. Fujisawa. Hey, maybe we'll even get to work together sometime!  
  
Mr. Fujisawa stopped abruptly, stood tall, and cleared the lump from his throat. It would be an honor, he said severely, and they bowed in that ancient gesture of mutual respect that had been so essential to their culture back home.  
  
Qawoor startled no one when she nearly tackled Makoto, putting her arms around him and squeezing, causing his face to turn an even deeper shade of red. Congratulations, Makoto! she gushed. She'd long since agreed to drop the master', but still never passed up an opportunity to show her affection.  
  
Shayla tugged on Qawoor's shirtsleeves. Hey Qawoor, where the heck is Afura?  
  
Qawoor turned around. I thought you would know where she was. I haven't heard from her since she left for the Temple Home two days ago.  
  
Shayla shook her head. She hasn't talked to me since then either. But I can't imagine that she'd pass something like this up on purpose.  
  
Alielle piped up from behind them all, AHEM. I think there's someone else who's missing here, too.  
  
Everyone stared at her in unison.   
  
Alielle became impatient.   
  
  
  


****  
  


John was in fact still at the Temple Home, although he hadn't seen Afura since the incident in the courtyard two days ago. He had decided to spend some semiserious time studying the lore, myth, legend, scripture, and tales surrounding the Seminary, enticed somewhat by the fact that no man had been allowed read it since the ancient times before the Holy Wars.  
  
So he passed his time, alone but for the regular visits of the acolytes assigned to watch over him, until that same afternoon, when something in one of the tomes he was perusing caused him to sit bolt upright in bed and stop breathing for an unhealthy length of time.  
  
He peered as deeply as he could into the page in front of him, then turned to examine his lamp in fine detail. His head whipped between the two as he fought to reconcile what his brain was telling him he had wrapped around his wrist with what he had just read.  
  
After a minute he regained his breath, and his senses, and shut the book gently and laid it down on the small table next to his bed. He strode out the door, passed by the acolyte that had been on her way to check on him without so much as glancing her way, and his pace was just barely shy of jogging as he threaded his way through the now-familiar corridors to the Hall of Scripture.  
  


****  


  
You didn't tell me that I'm wearing the damned Sage Stone! No wonder I can hardly control the thing!  
  
Mother Moram fixed John with a piercing gaze. Watch your tongue, boy. The words came out flat and cold, and the authority behind them was unmistakable. John froze, but the defiant light in his eyes refused to leave.  
  
Moram continued, This is a holy shrine to the great past of our order. You will enter with reverence and remain here by my whim. Do you understand?  
  
She waited patiently, and after a few breaths John nodded quickly. Moram seemed to relax into her chair a bit more, and said, Now, tell me what you have learned.  
  
That you, John began hotly, but forced a measured calm into his voice, that the lamp you gave me was fashioned from the Sage Stone itself, the personal lamp of Wren.  
  
Moram smiled. Teaching had always been one of her favorite job, and she spoke slowly, with obvious pleasure at being indirectly asked to recount the tale. Yes, but do you know the legend behind it, and why it came to be so powerful?  
  
John shook his head. I only got through the first paragraph, and the illustration that showed what it looked like.  
  
What you wear is indeed the lamp held by Karali Wren, who before his death was the most powerful Elemental Priest the ancient world had ever known. The legend says that while he was away on an adventure, his homeland was attacked by an evil mage. His home was devastated, but the mage was driven back by the other sages of his order. Before they could kill him, however, he escaped across the oceans to an island shrouded in eternal mist, and six of their strongest holy warriors were sent after him.  
  
Her voice held such a hypnotic quality that John failed to notice that she had surrounded them in the same gray fog that she had used to show him his last vision of the Holy Wars. But it was abbreviated; the images swirled around him like a hurricane of memories, just briefly showing him what had occurred, flashing by like a documentary, and Moram pressed on.   
  
When the Six arrived on the mages' island, they found it full of terrible beasts that he had conjured to fight them off. They fought bravely, but there were too many beasts, and they were defeated. The Priest Karali had arrived in his home too late to join them, but he was told of where they went, and so with his traveling companions set out to aide his brethren in seeking vengeance.  
  
They found the island, and Karali jumped off their airship when he saw the Six and ran to join them. But he found them all near death, and despite his great ability to heal he could not save them. The Six agreed to give up their powers to Karali, at the cost of their own lives, so that he might press on and kill the evil mage. When he accepted them, his spirit was suffused with a holy energy more powerful than anything the world had ever seen. With his companions as his aides he swept the island clean of the monsters, before he came to the evil mage himself.  
  
The battle was terrible, but Karali struck the telling blow. By then the powers contained within his body had become too great to control. They consumed him entirely, and before he crossed over into Heaven he left behind two things; a staff of immense elemental power, which has sadly been lost to time, and his lamp, the jewel from which now rests with you.  
  
Moram's tale ended, and the images around them faded into mist. John was left to stare in amazement at the bejeweled armband he'd been gifted, and Mother Moram allowed him a few seconds to recover, before continuing.  
  
His companions brought it back to his homeland, and in time it came to be called the Sage Stone. Thousands of years later, when technology ruled and the ancient gods were cast aside, the stone was entrusted to the newly-formed Temple, hidden away in the depths of the forest until the time came for it to be used again for the purposes of good. No Priestess who has tried could use the powers of the Sage Stone, perhaps for the same reason that the men in our time cannot be taught our powers. But this is the gift you have been given.  
  
John said after almost a minute of silence had passed, sure beats working at the copy store. Ha ha. And then, after he was done smiling at his slight joke, You really think it's a good idea, I mean, giving me this thing? What if I like, go over to the Dark Side, or something?  
  
That is another unique property of the Stone, Moram replied, that it cannot be used for evil. It has a soul, you see, a tiny remnant of the soul of Karali, and it can sense the soul of whoever tries to use it. There were a few instances during the Holy Wars when the Stone was stolen, and someone tried to use it to harm others. But they were always disastrous. Since then no one has approached it, and indeed it had not been seen for hundreds of years, before you came.  
  
John said again, geez, uh, I, um... wow.  
  
Many when confronted with more have said less, Moram said sagely.  
  
replied John. He was busy studying his lamp.  
  
Oh, never mind. In two days time I am sending you, Cerin, and the Muldoon Priestesses out to the outer borders of Laidae, where we suspect the Phantom Tribe have hidden a base of sorts. We have lacked until now the means to pierce the illusion that hides that place, and I want Shayla, Afura and Qawoor there with you in case it should turn out to be dangerous.  
  
John looked up at her at last. Um, are you sure that's a good idea, sending Afura and Cerin on the same mission after what happened?  
  
Moram regarded him severely. They have both been punished for that foolishness, and they will both make their peace before they leave. In the mean time, I would urge you to read as much as you can of the legends regarding the Sage Stone. They may be of help to you in understanding your power.  
  
It was clearly intended as a dismissal, and John needed no second warning to leave. He turned and walked out of the Hall of Scriptures without saying another word, as his mind tried furiously to digest everything he'd just been told.  
  
He returned to his bed, began to nibble on the cheeses and fresh bread that had been left for him in his absence, and studied until the light of dawn broke through the trees that surrounded the Temple.


	14. The Assassin

::Chapter Seven::  
  


The tunnels had been dug as deep beneath the surface as they could manage, but the sheer noise was still enough to make Jinnai nervous. There was literally no chance that they would be detected, the Phantom Tribe had seen to that. So why was there still a horde of butterflies that refused to leave his stomach alone?  
  
In all the earlier operations, in the days of the first Bugrom War, he'd been at the head of all his troops, so totally confident in their imminent victory that he rode over the field of battle like an old Norse God, urging his minions on to conquer the world.  
  
But now, they were taking no chances with his survival. Diva had seen to it that he was surrounded at all times as a precaution, if he would not give up his notion that he must be present to direct their first several battles. There was one other major difference; aside from his small group of the six Bugrom that he had been personally training since his first days as Pure Grand Chancellor of their forces, the tunnels were flooded with the diminutive blue half-'bugs that Diva had fashioned from the remnants of her genetic memory.  
  
This would be the first test of their efficacy, and already Jinnai was surprised at their speed. His guard was having a hard time carrying his dais _and_ keeping up with the swarm, and they weren't even moving at top speed. Just as Jinnai was admiring this fact, Groucho stumbled slightly and Jinnai was jolted out of his seat. Such was the shock that he nearly fell of the dais altogether.  
  
He let out a yelp of terror, and just managed to grab a hold of the platform to keep from slipping off. GROUCHO! You purple armor-plated pulphead! Are you trying to depose me so you can take my rightful place?  
  
Groucho's garbled response was clearly shaken, his nervousness readily apparent to Jinnai, who had lived with the bug at his side for years. Does this have to do with the battle? Jinnai asked as he climbed back up, still annoyed but no longer furious.  
  
Another series of meek warbles.  
  
Well, I want to see if all this time I've spent training you to be my second in command hasn't been wasted. But it's obvious that you're a nervous wreck, so I guess I'll just have to hold your hand again for this battle, like always.  
  
Jinnai was clearly mocking him, and Groucho's indignant response was exactly what his leader had been hoping for.  
  
Yeah! Now that's the spirit! Jinnai slapped the bugs shoulder as firmly as he dared, and continued, I knew you had the balls for this.  
  
Garble garble?  
  
Ack! That's none of your business!!  
  
The legion kept it's unbreaking pace, and the eerie blue tide washed through the musty tunnels for what seemed like days, until they reached a wide-open chasm with a tiny pinprick of daylight at the end of it - the final staging ground for their assault.  
  


****  


  
Neither Jinnai knew what was coming, thankfully, for if the Madman Katsuhiko had discovered Kiro's true purpose in traveling to Roshtaria alone, he would surely have tried to stop them.  
  
Kiro knew from independent reports that the Madman hadn't hesitated to order his old teacher killed, which was encouraging. But there was no guarantee that he wouldn't balk at having his own sister dispatched. Assassinated, really.  
  
And so he traveled as he always did, under the added cloak of darkness. The timing would be perfect; even if the Madman had wanted to interfere, he would be far too busy directing the attack against Caldan when Kiro had chosen to strike. Lord Nahato had finally gotten the consent of the council. It seemed that they were not as dull-witted as Kiro had always privately believed.  
  
Despite his ability to ignore his body's limitations for brief periods of time, after three days of travel he was fast approaching the point where he would be forced to rest. He would have to give in to sleep for a short while, if he was to be sharp-witted enough to kill his target, but he was only hours from the capital of Floristica now, and he had to strike before the Madman carried out his own operation.  
  
Alone with his thoughts, Kiro ran until the forest that surrounded him finally broke, and the heavily guarded walls of the Royal City appeared before him. He found a suitable hiding place, switched on the silent security device that would wake him if anyone approached, and prepared himself for this grim task.  
  


****  
  


_Dear Nanami,  
  
I know you've been so tied up at the Royal Palace, and how hard it is for you to sit back and watch while someone else runs your business for you. So I thought I'd let you know how we're doing.  
  
Trilline is really getting better. Yesterday one of the customers told him how nice the restaurant looked, and he actually smiled at them! Plus, when Arthin called in sick he just said and found Yukoh to work for him! It's like he's a whole new person.  
  
The military buildup is keeping business steady, even if most of our regular customers have been replaced by soldiers on their way to the training camps. Our profit margin actually incresed for the first time since you left, too! I sent along a copy of our balance sheets from the past year, in case you wanted to look over them.  
  
All of us miss you. We pray for the day when this menace will be over and we can all taste your cooking again.  
  
Love,  
Lewoor  
_  
Nanami scowled at the hand written letter. She turned to the girl who had delivered it to her, pausing in her rythmic petting of Lyn.  
  
Thanks, Alielle, but you didn't have to bring it to me personally.  
  
Alielle nodded. Yes I did. Londs says that all incoming mail must be thoroughly inspected before being hand-delivered to it's recipient, and he said I'm one of the few people he trusts to have unobserved contact with you. She was smiling, but there was an unmistakable note of sadness in her voice. Nanami had been under lock and key ever since she'd been shanghaied into the Royal Guard, and while it was flattering to think that she'd done anything to deserve the attention of so many people, there were times when the precautions Londs was taking on her behalf seemed to border on rediculous.  
  
Alielle continued, Besides, I thought you could use some good news to cheer you up!  
  
Nanami blinked. You read it?  
  
Of course. Like I said, everything has to be inspected. By the way, who's it from?  
  
Oh fine. Nanami fell back on her bed, too tired to put up a fight after what was possibly the most rigorous day of physical exercise she'd yet had to endure. Lyn lept off her lap lightly and padded across the floor to his food dish, where the fading light of day broke through the one window in her quarters to throw an irrgular square of white upon the grey stone tiles. Lewoor is my, _was_ my head waitress. I know she meant well, poor thing. She understands just how much the Diner meant to me, but this is actually more depressing than not knowing anything.  
  
Alielle picked up at once on Nanami's use of the past tense in her words. Now now, that's no way to talk! You'll get back to your diner soon, I know it!  
  
Nanami asked pitifully.  
  
Well, Qawoor and sister Shayla left earlier this morning, I think they were headed to the Temple to go and find the Phantom Tribe. And once we've beaten them, you can go back to you life like normal! Alielle was not going to be swayed from her good cheer, and she sat down next to Nanami on her bed and began stroking her thigh absentmindedly.  
  
Oh come on, big sister, Alielle continued, I know all sorts of ways to take your mind off things...  
  
Nanami turned around on her bed to face the wall, and pulled the sheets up around her. Go away, she said sternly.  
  
Alielle sighed. Then, purely on impulse, she leant over and kissed Nanami on the cheek, then hopped off the bed and ran out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.  
  
Oh God, Nanami moaned, the world really is out to get me.  
  


****  


  
As soon as the fading glow of twilight had left the horizon Kiro broke across the approach to the Palace at a run. He passed unseen beneath the guard's tower that stood sentry over this quarter of the great wall that surrounded the royal compound. The wall was designed to be impassable without serious climbing equimpent, which meant that he would have to get through one of the gates, somehow.  
  
Kiro knelt down next to the gate that barred entrance to the northern gallery, and closed his eyes in concentration. He formed the image of the illusion he desired with perfect clarity in his mind, then, through an extension of will that after years of relentless training now seemed easy, maintained his invisibility while he created the image of a Royal Roshtarian cutter approaching the gate from out of the growing darkness.  
  
Instantly the guards were on alert. Hurried questions were lobbed at the gate commander, who had no foreknowledge of a visit by the Air Corps. As the cutter slowed to a stop before the gate, the commander stepped out of the tower with several of his men in tow. The pilot of the cutter argued convincingly, and Kiro supplied his puppet with the memorized code phrases and identification documents his fellow Wraiths had gathered for him.  
  
After a few minutes of debate the guard commander relented, and Kiro stepped confidently from the shadows and into the floodlights that were trained on the gate entrance. It was taking every ounce of his will to maintain this complex series of illusions, but as he walked through the open gate in the wake of his illusion, his spirits were lifted when he caught a scrap of conversation between two junior guards.  
  
Well, that was weird. I don't know that any of our cutters have shown up this late at night.  
  
Yeah, I felt really bad for the pilot, getting drilled like that.  
  
We can't be too careful, you know? We gotta be sure that the Phantom Tribe never gets into the palace again.  
  
  
  
Londs walked wearily along the open air corridors that circled the apartments where his military personnel stayed. Most of them were asleep by now, but a few, like Londs himself, stayed up well past sunset working. The light from their lamps crept out from under the tangled masses of vines that humg over every window and danced on the pathway, and Londs couldn't help but feel gratified that his sense of professional paranoia, as he liked to call it, had begun to rub off on his subordinants at last.  
  
He was just rounding a corner when something on the edge of his vision caught his attention. He looked out across the vast, empty approach to the north gallery that his apartment was situated over, then walked over to the balcony and leaned out to get a better look.  
  
There was a cutter just on the edge of the range of the floodlights at the gated entrance, moving towards the palace. He consulted his daily schedule, which insisted that no more arrivals were scheduled until the next morning. He frowned, then looked back out over the field. The approach was well lit at night -despite the near total lack of activity- for reasons of security, but as he watched the lights on either side of the cutter suddenly went out. He waited for the tiny ship to emerge from the shadows along it's path, but it never did.  
  
The guards in the tower were watching this, too, and they reached the same conclusion that Londs came to after the lights came back on and the cutter was no where to be seen.  
  
The sirens' sound was peircing in the stillness of the perfect black night that had been upon them, and it's shrill and unforgiving tones were guaranteed to wake everyone on the gounds.  
  
Londs heard it, too, but he had been running straight for the princesses' chambers well before the guards had woken the rest of the sleeping Palace.  
  
  
Kiro muttered a silent curse as he wove his way through the elaborate gardens that the Roshtarians had insisted on putting damn near _everywhere_. The Tribe's intelligence activities had provided him with a complete and detailed map of the entire Palace, and also described the location that the second Jinnai was staying at. He had to hurry now, though; that blasted alarm was loud enough to warn the whole countryside that something was up at the Palace.  
  
  
Nanami's hair was braided tight behind her head, and she was already tightening her boots' fittings when Londs burst through the door.  
  
Miss Nanami! Forgive my intrusion, but you must...  
  
His pleas were made reduntant when Nanami flew from her bed to the weapons locker just across the room, grabbed and checked her rifle with practised ease, then held her arms out and let Lyn wrap himself around her.  
  
She turned to Londs. Let's go. She swept past him and out the door, and Londs had to recover himself slightly before he could get his legs to follow behind the deadly-serious warrior that he still couldn't convince himself he'd just seen.  
  
  
Their rooms were actually right next to each other, but because of it's immensity it was still a short walk until Nanami and Londs reached the door to Rune and Fatora's shared suite. A trailer of six guards had formed up behind them in the distance between suites, and the rest of them arrived peicemeal as the doors that guarded the princesses were opened to admit their protectors.  
  
Rune, Fatora and Alielle had not been trained to awaken instantly at the sound of the alarm, and they had just gotten their robes on when the party walked through the door.  
  
Your Highnesses, Londs exclaimed, we must move you to the bunker quickly. The intruder may already be inside the palace.  
  
Rune managed to speak while her servants hurried around her to gather a few personal belongings. Of course, Sir Londs, we'll be ready in a minute. She shot a warning glance at Fatora, who was debating over which hair clips she should take out with her.  
  
  
Kiro risked a quick glance inside Nanami's room, noted it was empty, and stepped aside as two more guards hurried past him down the hall. He followed them until he heard the clamor of multiple voices, and among them was...  
  
The Princess. Then Nanami would not be far behind, Kiro reasoned, and his predator's grin was wide as he climbed up the conviniently thick vines that cralwed up the sides of the open doorway -which was thankfully not nearly as high as the ones to each of the princesses regular residences- and perched on the ledge above it, waiting for them to step out and make their way to the bunker.  
  
He drew his weapon, flipped up the small sighting lens, and settled his finger on the firing stud.  
  
  
Nanami was impressed with how quickly the princesses and Alielle were able to leave. When it became evident that they would not be able to bring a tenth of what they had originally wanted, and when Londs pointed out that no servants would be allowed to stay with them in the bunker, they'd simply dropped everything, and their armor cats wrapped each of theprincesses in a nearly impenetrable shell.  
  
Rune turned to Londs. We're ready.  
  
Londs nodded, and hurried out the door. The princesses followed close on his heels, and Nanami right behind them. The guard contingent closed up around them, and the whole entourage proceeded smoothly out the doors and into the hallway.  
  
  
Kiro watched and waited as the procession began. First the guards, then that meddlesome Londs, then the Princesses. _Oh, how easy it would be to decapitate their entire monarchy in one stroke!_ he thought to himself. It was tempting, but that wasn't his mission.  
  
The girl who followed them was. He'd been told that she now wore a furry green coat with a cat's head on it, and the Phantom Tribe had always assumed that it was no more than an elaborate pet. Both princesses wore them too, now that Kiro had noticed, but the recognition was fleeting.  
  
His target now completely in his sights, he followed Nanami for half a second, then depressed the stud.  
  
  
Very few people truly understood that the cats had been engineered to resist virtually every form of attack known, and even fewer knew that they could even stop a point-blank shot from a Demon God, if only once. Therefore, the Phantom Tribe assassin could be forgiven for not knowing that, powerful as their plasma-based weaponry was, one shot would certainly not suffice to kill someone who was thusly protected.  
  
Kiro's aim had been perfect, and the bolt of pure blue energy liberated it's fury against the back of Nanami's head. But the helmet of Lyn's tail robbed the shot of everything but it's force of impact, which was still powerful enough to slam her forward.  
  
Nanami cried out in pain and collapsed on the ground in front of her, barely conscious underneath the sea of hurt that was throbbing in the back of her head, and Lyn was yelping too in the high-pitched sound of a terrified and injured animal. She fell across her gun and landed at an awkward angle, eyes screwed shut and mouth locked open in a silent wail of protest. Londs spun around, paralyzed for a precious instant by what had happened.  
  
Kiro was frozen too, but he quickly recovered and swung his weapon to bear once more, just as Londs pointed up towards him.  
  
The bolt came from up there! Fire! The guards raised their own weapons, and just as they fired at the archway Kiro jumped, letting go of his gun as well as any hope of escaping alive, and pulled his dagger out. The peircing wail of the siren in the background was still drowning out virtually every other noise, but the guard closest to the doorway felt a disturbance in the air next to him as Kiro landed. The guard turned around to face the invisible killer, just as the tip of Kiro's blade drove through his throat and back out again, leaving him to die in agony as blood poured out of the gaping wound.  
  
The guard next to him nearly fired in that direction, but he seemed to realize that he would simply manage to kill another guard if he missed. Before he could decide what he _should_ do Kiro's knife found him, too, and soon a third and fourth guard were screaming as they slumped horribly onto the stone floor.  
  
Londs pushed the princesses outside of the circle the guards had formed, grabbed the active forcepike from the hands of one of them, and lunged forward with an animal yell of revenge. He swept the space in front of him with such speed that his movements blurred together, and he quickly came to the spot where the last guard had died.  
  
Despite the siren Londs heard the clipped yelp of surprise that seemed to eminate from thin air in front of him, and he twirled the forcepike around him to ward off attack. The invisible assassin shifted his target priorities and made a few attempts to get through Londs' guard, but the seemingly harmless head of the Royal Military was proving to be as deadly a warrior as himself.  
  
He lunged again towards Londs, but instead of diving straight into his defense he slipped to the side and brought his knife up in a delicately timed swing. The blade caught the flesh of Londs's forearm, and his immaculate uniform was splashed with crimson as his last swing of the pike brought it around in a horizontal line in front of him.  
  
Kiro's hand was not fast enough, however, and the forcepike caught the steele knife and split it easily in two. The clank of the blade's upper half hitting the ground was barely audible, and Londs clearly wished to press his advantage. But his strokes were wild and barely controlled now that his arm was wounded, and Kiro flipped backwards away from the assault and reassessed his options.  
  
He nearly cried out a second time as he landed right next to the plasma rifle he had discarded earlier. No one had noticed it in the confusion of the fighting, but Londs stopped abruptly as his sharp eyes noticed something disappear from the ground in front of him when Kiro picked it up. Londs opened his mouth as if to scream, but he never got the chance to before a brilliant blue-white bolt of energy lanced across the space bewteen them. It struck Kiro squarely in the chest, breaking the illusion that concealed him at last. The assassin looked in horror at the smoking hole where his heart had been, then spared one gape-eyed glance at something that was behind Londs before he crumpled over.  
  
Londs followed the path of the dead man's gaze, to where Nanami had managed to sit up slightly. She was still pointing her rifle in the direction that Kiro had been standing.  
  
She managed to grin at Londs, and said through clenched teeth, See? Told ya you could trust me, before she passed out, freed from the pain at last.


	15. Seek and Hide

::Chapter Eight::  
  


Oooooooohhhhhh, why do I feel like I got clubbed in the back of my head? Nanami's first words upon awakening were slow and ill-formed. She smacked her lips a couple of times to try and clear away the film that seemed to coat the inside of her mouth, but did not open her eyes yet.  
  
Because you did, Makoto told her.  
  
Ugh. How long?  
  
You've been out for six hours, at least. I stopped counting, and Alielle finally fell asleep. Are you okay?  
  
Nanami replied indignantly, I've been shot. Why can't I breathe?  
  
She was answered by Lyn, who sat up from his position curled on her chest and walked delicately up to her face. He began rubbing his head against her chin, and his deep purr was as loud as a buzzsaw that seemed to rumble through her very bones.  
  
Ah! That tickles! she exclaimed, and giggled uncontrollably for a few seconds before she had to push Lyn's head back down against her chest. Owwww, sorry, my head feels like a water balloon.  
  
Lyn's purring seemed to stir Alielle from her sleep, and when she opened her eyes it was obvious that she wanted to jump up on top of the bed and squeeze Nanami until she burst. But that just wouldn't do for a patient in a hospital bed, so she settled for squeezing Nanami's arm.  
  
Oh, big sister, you're up! I was so worried, you have no idea! When I saw you... get... oh! She broke down and started sobbing into the robe Nanami had been changed into. Nanami tried to sit up to get a look around the room, opening her eyes at last.  
  
The two princesses were stirring from their sleep next to Makoto on her right, and the Fujisawas were there, with Miz and Mika napping on one of the other beds and Mr. Fujisawa propped up against it. Dr. Stalubaugh was still dozing, and Londs had parked himself right in front of the entrance to the infirmary. Rune was the first to wake completely, and when she did she hurried to Nanami's side, all pretensions at royal dignity forgotten.  
  
Oh, Nanami, you're awake! Thank God you're allright, the medics were uncertain how long you would be unconscious. I can't, I mean, I don't know how, we can ever... The moment proved too powerful for words, and Rune simply embraced Nanami, content to let her actions speak for her.  
  
Nami! Nami okay. She awake! Mika's sqeaky voice piped up from her bed, and Mr. Fujisawa woke up just in time to keep her from trying to jump off the bed herself. He grabbed her by the waist and carried the little girl over to Nanami's bed, where upon squeezing in between her and Alielle, she exclaimed again, You awake!  
  
By now even the doctor was up, and it was Makoto's turn to comfort his oldest friend as emotion took over completely. Nanami was surrounded - mobbed, really - by all the people that she had come to care for so deeply on this world, and not a word was said as she wept for all the pain and sorrow they had yet to overcome.  
  


****  
  


A distraction? What kind of distraction? Jinnai's nerves sang with the tension that had been mounting slowly as dawn approached, and it showed in his painfully precise tone of voice.  
  
Garble warble farble, replied Groucho.  
  
An assassination attempt?! On who?  
  
  
  
What do you mean I don't know?' Well, it's not like there's anyone _else_ at the palace that those blue-skinned weirdos would care about, so they must have been after the princess bitches. A small cloud of steam began to build around his head as his temper took hold. He clenched both fists in anger. Those bastards have no right to keep information like this secret from me! Uuuurragh, we don't have time now to properly punish them, but the second we've crushed the Southern Stronghold I'll have all their heads on a platter before me!  
  
Warble farble?  
  
Jinnai reached into his breast pocket, withdrew his comb, and tamed his hair into a neat cap upon his head. You're right, Groucho. We've got a war to win, after all, and our sword has more than one edge to it. Then he turned around from his position watching the entrance to the vast cavern, and addressed the mass of Bugrom before him as the first light of dawn crept over the hills at last.  
  
Troops! ADVANCE!!  
  
  
  
Caldan was one of the smaller nations bordering the Southern Seas, graced by a series of inland fjords that would have impressed the folks who put up New Zealand. The resulting floodplains were the best place in the world to grow the floating grain paddies that produced the most highly-sought textile in the land, Caldan rice silk. Nobles from every nation prized it, and the rulers of Caldan had used this primary trade to build an economy second only to that of Roshtaria's, which made it strategically vital to the health of the Alliance.  
  
It was also the reason for the positioning of over 16,000 troops of the Royal Army around the capital city of Erfon in the event of any attack, whether by Bugrom or the few warlords that inhabited the less-hospitible desert regions to the east. Very little consideration was given by the Army to the interior security of Caldan, since their vast merchant marine and police force had been keeping watch over the established trade routes for nearly two centuries. And so the bulk of the Royal Army's attention was focused out and to the east, which meant that they were in almost exactly the wrong spot when the attack came.  
  
  
  
There it is! Signal the bombers to begin their run! A small messenger bug lept from the platform and flew into the air to pass the orders, and Jinnai started to stand, but the shifting tide of Bugrom that surrounded and swept out before him made that impossible. They'd run over a few sentry posts already, and the path to the heavily fortressed capital city was unyeilding to say the least. Erfon was surrounded by trecherous mountains to the north and the beautiful wide ocean to the south, and the few passes that were wide enough to move regular troops through were well guarded against periodic raids.  
  
But the Bugrom didn't need nice neat roads carved out of the moutainside; they simply rode down the cliffs and hills on their incredibly sharp claws, formed of almost ten centimeters of diamond-hard biopolymer composits. Rock and soil fell away from the advancing horde in an avalanche even as they rode it into the valleys that sheltered the outskirts of the city.  
  
  
  
At first, it felt like a distant earthquake. The few people that lived in the forest brought potted plants off the windowsills and blew out oil lamps, prepared to ride it out. But the rumbling never died down, it only grew louder, until the Bugrom horde swept by the houses in a hideous tide of blue carapaces and incomprehensible war cries.  
  
Before they reached the outskirts the first of the bombs were dropped, from the flyers overhead that the Phantom Tribe had concealed, awaiting the order that Jinnai had sent out. They fell by the dozen, and as incredulous shouts and screams rose up from the populace the Royal Army scurried to their bunkers, only to have them blasted away.  
  
A hole in the wall surrounding Erfon was blown open by the bombs, and the Army had just begun to reorganize themselves when the first of the bugs began to pour through it.  
  
Because the forcepikes were a relatively new development, most of the troops were still armed with the nearly useless rifles left over from the last war, and these were the first to die as their blasts were shrugged aside and the Bugrom mowed them down in droves. The pockets of troops that wielded the forcepikes fared rather better, managing to kill one or two of the advance units before the main body caught them. But the sheer speed of these smaller warrior bugs took them by surprise, and divided as they were by the initial assault, they were quickly overrun.  
  
As soon as they were inside the city the bombing ceased, then began again over the Caldan Navy's docking slips. Ship after ship suffered damage, and many were sunk in their moorings, their fire crews fighting desperately to stem the tide of destruction and save what they could of their ships.  
  
The fighting continued for some time, as small groups of soldiers were able to gather amid the ruins of their headquarters. But their counterattacks were short lived, and five hours after the first bombs had fallen, the Bugrom quickly - and, as witnesses would later claim, quite literally - vanished. When they left, there were less than two dozen survivors from the army that had just this morning called Caldan their home.  
  


****  


  
The hauntingly beautiful voice was clearly audible outside John's quarters, and the language that it sang in was one that no one in the Temple could hope to understand. The language of the music, however, spoke surely about the mood that the listener was in, and as it drifted through the open window Qawoor approached the shack with mix of trepidation and honest curiosity.  
  
She reached for the handle to the door, but stopped halfway when she noticed that it was already open a crack. Gently she pushed the door back open, and the sound of that sad, sad voice surrounded her as though she were in a concert hall. She stopped in the frame of the open door and let the music, backed by a few string instruments that she couldn't name immediately, wash over her for a second before she noticed John.  
  
He was sitting at the small table beneath one of the open windows. He had his back to the door, and seemed to be staring out across the mesa into the valley below. Obviously, he hadn't heard Qawoor come in, so she waited for the song to end, and gently cleared her throat.  
  
John lept out of his chair, knocking his right knee painfully against the underside of the table, and sat down again quickly. He seemed to wipe something off his face with brutal haste, then turned around and smiled. Another song began to play.  
  
he said through a sniffle, what's up Qawoor?  
  
Even for someone as perenially naieve as she, Qawoor could tell that he'd been crying, which made her feel very awkward indeed. She shuffled her feet and clasped her hands behind her back, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the floor.  
  
I'm sorry, John, I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll leave. She started to turn around.  
  
John admonished, it's allright, really. Come. Sit down. I don't have much to offer in the way of comfort. As if to prove the point he hastily threw a small pile of clothing that had been covering the only other chair in his quarters onto his bed, and brought it around to the opposite side of the table.  
  
Thank you. Qawoor was about to sit down when she noticed what had been making that haunting music, a strange array of devices was strewn over the table, connected by black and red wires. One of the devices was blinking, and it was this one that John fiddled with for a second. He turned a dial, and the music around them became much quieter. Qawoor looked at him, an unspoken question visible on her face.  
  
It's from the Mustang, John explained. I eventually got so homesick that I flew back to Floristica one afternoon and removed the stereo and two speakers. If I didn't know any better I'd say those engineers from Royal Security were getting ready to build a car of their own, he added almost to himself.  
  
And this is what it does? Qawoor asked in amazement, What a wonderful device! Does it play anything you want to hear?  
  
John smiled. Yeah, anything I have on CD. My father thought I should have at least one classical album with me, since the rest of my collection is pretty much rock. I brought all of it back from the palace. I was going nuts to hear something familiar.  
  
And what's this called?  
  
This one is Ave Maria.' I feel silly, but I don't know much about it beyond the name. I think it was in an opera or something, John added thoughtfully.  
  
Could it play Altaran music? Qawoor asked again.  
  
Ah, not unless they've released anything on CD lately. Who are they?  
  
Altara was my homeland, Qawoor replied quietly, we had the best traln players. I used to sneak out of my home at night and listen to them play in the park across the road, when the weather was warm enough. Did you ever do that in your home land?  
  
John paused in thought. Actually, the first concert I ever went to was Aerosmith, and someone threw upon my shoes just after the opening act. I have their latest album, at least, what I can only assume is their latest...  
  
His voice trailed off, lost in thought, and Qawoor hesitated for a second. Then she put a hand on his arm, and said, You miss your home, don't you?  
  
Beyond words, he replied instantly. At first, I guess there was so much going on that I couldn't really stop to think about it. But today, I was just thinking how pretty the leaves are here since Autumn's coming, and what it would look like back home if it were October. His voice was getting husky, and as he continued tears began to trickle down his cheeks slowly.  
  
Every time I go to Floristica now, there's this pass through the mountains that I take...  
  
Lannels' Steppes, Qawoor interjected, there are a lot of other roads that lead into the city, but the approach on that path is obscured by the cliffsides until you round the last corner, and then...  
  
The whole city appears before you, like the doors of some great museum thrust open to reveal a beautiful sculpture, John finished for her. There was something similar back home. Pittsburgh's pretty much surrounded on all sides by hills, except for the three rivers that converge at the tip of the city. So to get to it, you have to drive over or, in some places, through the hills. And one of these tunnels opens up right over one of the rivers, so for the whole length of the tunnel you can't see anything, then all of a sudden it's all in front of you. Like if you blink, you'd miss it, and it's gorgeous. Especially at night, when all of the skyscrapers are lit up. It's just, it's like nothing you have on this world. No offense.  
  
Qawoor smiled sadly. It sounds lovely.  
  
John sighed, then dried his eyes with the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing. God, look at me. I probably sound rediculous, like a little kid or something.  
  
No, not at all, Qawoor rushed to reassure him. I miss my home, too, but I can always go back if I want to. I can't imagine what it's like for you, not knowing if you'll ever make it back. Have you tried talking to Makoto, or Nanami? I know they still miss Earth. Maybe they could help you.  
  
John sqeezed her hand and smiled. he said, I might. And, thanks for listening.  
  
They shared for one more moment in the symphony that was still coming from the speakers, and then John seemed to gather himself under control. So. I take it that we're ready to leave? he asked.  
  
Qawoor nodded. Miss Afura has the ship ready. We had to procure something larger than we would normally use, since, well, we can't all share the same quarters. Her cheeks heated ever so slightly, and John couldn't help but laugh at her embarassment.  
  
It's allright, he said, I'm sure we'll work something out. I've always wanted to sleep out on the deck of a moving ship, beneath the stars...  
  
A thoughtful look crossed Qawoor's face suddenly. Um, John, I don't know if you'll really be able to do that.  
  
Mm? Why not? he asked.  
  
Mother Moram said that since the Phantom Tribe might have spies watching us, that priestess Cerin would have to cloak our entire journey, at least most of the way. Wouldn't that mean that we won't be able to see anything?  
  
At that news John produced a very put-off look. Well damn. Maybe once we're out over virgin forest we can drop it for a little while. Oh, no.  
  
What is it? Qawoor asked.  
  
John said at length, it's just that Cerin can be snippy even when she hasn't had to concentrate for twelve hours straight.  
  
Qawoor's eyes grew very big. You don't think she'll be, difficult, do you?  
  
he replied dryly, I think she'll be Cerin. Besides, I should be able to help out in that department, anyway. Then he stood up, flexed the right knee that he'd hit against the table, and smiled at her.  
  
I'm already packed up. Let's go!  
  
  
  
The acolyte sitting in the Circle of Light's main study area sighed as she watched the - in her opinion - unnecissarily comabt-oriented Muldoon Priestesses leave, with that nuisance teenage boy in tow, although there was some small comfort in the fact that they were taking Cerin along for their protection. The light around the edges of the small observational field she had created flickered and swirled, but the image it presented to her was clear as day. They were taking the Temple's second-fastest sail cutter with them, too, which spoke to the importance of their mission.  
  
With a wave of her hand the image vanished. The acolyte moved to gather up her materials, when suddenly another image appeared before her. It was one of their lesser priestesses, hiding among the white stone of what looked like the ruins of an outpost, or possibly a city. She was bleeding, a thin smoke was rising out of the rubble around her, and she wasted no time as she acknowledged the acolyte and began to in the Temple's sign language.  
  
Her motions were hampered by what was obviously a dislocated shoulder, but the meaning came through clearly. The acolyte's eyes widened, and she signaled to the other woman to wait while her instructor was summoned, then left the room at a run.  
  
  
  
Well, shoot, that was easy enough. John stared with only slight apprehension at the impenetrable black curtain that surrounded the cutter, and the dull gleam that came from his own lamp.  
  
Cerin nodded with satisfaction as she stepped back from him. We should be completely invisible now. Not even another priestess would be able to get through this, much less the Phantom Tribe. They'll have no idea at all that we're coming.  
  
Uh huh, replied John, so all we have to do for a few days is sit tight and hold our course? Without being able to see anything else outside this? he gestured at the inky black wall.  
  
Our compass should be unimpared, Afura pointed out, and Qawoor and I can get a sense for where we are by following the air currents and any nearby bodies of water. We'll be perfectly allright, there's no need to worry.  
  
A strong wind whipped across the deck of the cutter as they gathered speed. Afura put her own hand on John's lamp, then reached out in front of them and concentrated. Abruptly the wind stopped, and she released his arm with a tiny smile. They had pleasantly discovered that John was capable of maintaining more than one effect at a time, although no one knew what kind of strain this would place on him in the long term. Despite the shield against the wind, the that Shayla was continuing to light danced and flickered with their own life, casting erratic shadows over the whole ship.  
  
Who said I was worried? John asked in a slightly higher-than-normal voice. I'm not worried, not in the least. Shayla's creating plenty of light, so we can see fine, everythings fine. I'm fine!  
  
You're not afraid of the dark, are you? Afura asked with a mix of surprise and concern.  
  
How old did you say you were? Cerin added.  
  
Of course not! John replied instantly, I'm just, nervous! About what we might find. That's all! I'm going inside.  
  
He turned around and hurried through the small door that led to the living quarters below deck, just as Qawoor emerged from it.  
  
How is everythi- she began, then halted as John rushed to get below where there were many more lights set up. She continued over to the other two priestesses, and her next question was obvious.  
  
What's wrong with John? she asked, and her confusion grew when Afura and Cerin broke out in a giggle, which quickly degraded into all-out laughter.


	16. The Beginning

  


::Chapter Nine::  
  


The kitchen staff at the Royal Palace had gone to great lengths to humor their princesses' sudden interest in washing dishes. At any given time there were several dignitaries from each steading in the Alliance residing on the grounds, and by long tradition the evening meal was open to any diplomat or member of their staff who cared to attend.  
This made for a tremendous amount of dirty dishes, but in any event there were more than enough servants around to handle anything less than a full state dinner. Rune had insisted, however, and rather than incur her wrath, they'd meekly reserved a sink for her at the entrance to the kitchens.  
Londs admonished from behind, this really is unnecessary. They could attack at any moment, and I...  
I will not cower in fear within the walls of my own palace, Rune told him sternly as she finished scrubbing a pot. Besides, what confidence can a people have in their leader if they never see her? We must all do what we can to show Roshtaria that it's rulers will not be intimidated. Surely you can see the value in that?  
Hers was a voice that was clearly used to being obeyed, and Londs sighed wearily as he conceded the match. The House of Venus had demonstrated a pronounced stubbornness that Londs felt went far beyond genetics, and as valuable as it was in times of crisis it could also be painfully frustrating.  
Of course, your highness, he said docilly. There were a few points that he'd refused to budge on, however, and he made himself take comfort in the guards that stood over every hatch, window, and door that led in or out of the kitchen.  
Something caught his attention. A messenger was talking quickly with one of the guards by the main entrance, and as he watched the guard pointed out Londs amidst the crowd of cooks and servants. The messenger looked up, and hurried over to him.  
Sir Londs! he began loudly, then stopped himself and looked around, as though he were afraid of being overheard.  
Londs looked at him severely. Yes, what is it?  
The messenger swallowed, then stepped in close to Londs and spoke into his ear in a low voice. A look of shock passed quickly over Londs's face, then he turned around and put his hand on Princess Rune's shoulder.  
His voice was hollow as he spoke. Your highness, we must leave immediately. Erfon has fallen, and we have lost the southern stronghold.  
  
So it begins. Dr. Stalubaugh's voice sounded as ancient as the stone walls of the War Room. His words echoed strangely in the open area where the map of El Hazard was displayed, with oddly-shaped force appreciation markers scattered across it. The lights of those markers were far more numerous than they had been during the last Bugrom War, but there were four that were larger than any, the symbols of the Four Strongholds. And one had already been extinguished.  
We have reports that our positions were bombed in the same way that the Princess Fatora was attacked, from concealed ships in the sky! One of the military advisors, dressed in his preposterously high-collared overcoat, read the dispatch as though it were the most disasterous report he'd ever seen.  
Alielle scowled from the balcony above the map. Oh, don't these guys ever have anything good to say?  
Makoto walked up beside her, and rested his hands on the railing. If Jinnai follows the same pattern he did during the last war, he'll continue north to attack Laidae with his full force, then spread out to the east and west, and take Dorusland. God, they haven't even finished rebuilding the capital yet.  
Londs grumbled beside him. All of our remaining troops were cut down when they tried to leave Erfon to report. We have no idea what kind of strength he posesses, nor can we guard our smaller positions against the Phantom Tribe.  
But we know where he's likely to go next, right? Makoto asked. Can't we position troops to cut off his routes to the north?  
Londs shook his head. The Bugrom do not use roads to move across the landscape. Any widthdrawls we made from our fortified positions would simply invite attack. Dorusland's defences have been heavily reinforced, and I have already prepositioned a squadron of our new warships there to cover against an air attack. If the Bugrom attempt to lay seige to the capital the way they did in the last war, they will fail.  
Dr. Stalubaugh added, But there is nothing we can do for the innumberable smaller towns and cities that lie in their path. Many sought refuge in the countryside when it became clear that the larger cities were the focus of the last war's campaign. And, we can no longer scout the Bugrom positions, as it seems that the Phantom Tribe are hiding them from view between attacks.  
You know, Alliele pondered, if the Phantom Tribe really is so good at making themselves invisible, and confusing people, how come they didn't help the Bugrom the last time? And why couldn't they have conquered El Hazard all on their own?  
You know, Makoto replied thoughtfully, I never could figure that out. They've shown that they can pretty much get through our defenses at will. I just always assumed that they preferred subterfuge and assassination to outright fighting. Dr. Stalubaugh, just how long have the Phantom Tribe been in El Hazard?  
Dr. Stalubaugh glared up at him. My boy, surely you remember? They were brought here when the Eye of God was last activated during the Holy Wars, more than three thousand years ago.  
And where were they sent?  
Legend states that they dwell in a region of underground caverns beneath El Hazard, possibly formed by the devestation of the Holy Wars, but we do not know for certain.  
Makoto's enthusiam for this line of questioning seemed to be growing in spite of the Doctor's distracted tone. So it's possible that the reason that their science is so much more advanced than your own is that they've been living in an underground vault of ruined technologies! That's how they were able to learn how to control the Eye of God!  
My boy, Dr. Stalubaugh said impatiently, I fail to see your point, if there is one.  
Makoto looked genuinely surprised. I'm sorry, Doctor, I was just speculating. Maybe there's a reason that they've stayed hidden all these years, something that was holding them back from taking revenge. If there was, it might help us to know what.  
The Doctor sighed. Yes, I'm sorry. Events are already beginning to spiral out of control, and I do not wish for this to be a repeat of what happened the last time the Bugrom attacked.  
Makoto walked over and put his hand on the man's shoulder. I know, Doctor, I know. But this time around, I just feel like we're missing a very important peice of the puzzle. There's something about the Phantom Tribe, why they're doing this, that we don't yet understand.  
  


****  
  


Yeah, I hope we get to smash a few bugs along the way. It's been too long since I had a truly worthy opponent. Shayla had her lamp lit, and was sitting in the middle of the deck making tiny shapes with the flame. John was on his stomach, head propped up in his palms and eyes watching Shayla's antics with passive disinterest. Qawoor was next to him, silently perusing an archaic-looking book.  
Afura's requisite sigh of exaggerated patience came from her position at the helm. It was a thin veil for her own anxiety. Shayla, we're supposed to remain hidden, remember? I doubt that the Bugrom would fail to notice when their scouting forces didn't return. That might make them suspicious of what we were doing out here, which could lead in turn to their discovery of the very thing we're seeking.  
Shayla looked up from her dancing flames. And what is it we're seeking, exactly?  
Afura paused. I, I'm not even sure myself. All the Headmistress said is that she's suspected the Phantom Tribe of working in this area for some time. We'll be the first ones to determine just what exactly is going on, and, if there's anything we can do to stop them. And besides, the last time we went out like this, we found Kalia, and she kicked your high and mighty butt all over the hidden temple.  
Shayla answered, well as I recall, you got the same treatment, despite your _obvious superiority_. Her last two words dripped with acid contempt, and Afura began to rise to the bait when something stopped her. The sound of light footsteps came from behind them, and Cerin emereged out of the hold onto the deck.  
She didn't say a word, but she glanced quickly at Afura and, seeing the priestesses' obvious distress, stalked quietly around the engine bank to the other side of the deck where she couldn't be seen.  
Afura, after struggling mightily with herself for a few moments, let out a frustrated breath and walked quickly below decks.  
Shayla said after the other two were safely out of earshot, she's never been that easy to upset. Something must really be bothering her.  
From what I hear, John said, she got a real earful from the Headmistress. She's probably still just pissed off about the whole incident at the Temple.  
Qawoor shook her head gently. I think it's more than that. The Seminary has always been tough on it's trainees, so that only the strongest women make it through the training. Unless it was unusually severe, Afura should have been able to handle her punishment better than this. There's something else, something that's somehow more important to her than just her pride.  
She turned to look at John. Shayla turned to look at John.  
John turned a very bright shade of red.  
  
The cutter touched down in the closest thing to a clearing that Cerin had been able to find for miles. It was a clear night, and not even the wind stirred as they eased their way through the thick branches and set down silently. Then, the cutter and it's crew emerged from their hiding as though appearing out of thin air, and the priestesses went to work immediately covering it with a camoflauge netting that blended itself, chameleon-like, with the surrounding foliage. When they were done with this, John took it upon himself to ask the obvious question.  
Now what?  
Afura and Cerin closed their eyes in response, and for a few moments no one moved as the pair scoured the area for signs of the enemy.  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around us, Afura said at length, but I can hear something in the distance, coming this way. It sounds like, almost like an earthquake.  
Her eyes popped open. Cerin, what do you see five miles to the south of us?  
Cerin turned around to face in that direction, and the schooled look of concentration on her face abruptly shifted to something much more akin to surprise.  
  
  
Garble blarble farble, Groucho said.  
Jinnai responded calmly, giving no outward thought to the tidal wave of flowing and ebbing bugs around him. Well, Groucho, do you think you'll be able to handle yourself this time?  
  
Jinnai sighed. You'd better, because if I have to bail your shiny butt out again, I'll demote you to Hatchling Security. Now, let me see. He pulled a large map from one of the storage bins on his dais and unrolled it. The borders for more than two dozen separate countries and steadings were drawn on it, with every major city marked in red. Except, of course, for his first conquest Erfon, which now had a cartoonish black ladybug crudely drawn over it.  
Next stop, Laidae!  
  
Shayla's grin was wide enough to split her face. All-RIGHT! Fianlly, some action! She punched John on the arm hard enough to leave a mark, then turned to Afura. How many are there?  
At least one, possibly two thousand, Afura replied stoically.  
That's all? Shayla said derisively, I was hoping for a real fight.  
They're coming right for us, aren't they? Qawoor asked miserably.  
They'll overrun our position in less than ten minutes, Cerin told her. I'll alert the Temple.  
Right, John and I will go out and head them off, Shayla said, then grabbed John by the wrist. You ready to go?  
John gulped loudly, then said in a high-pitched voice, What, you expect me to actually run _towards_ them?  
she responded with a slightly twisted smile, I expect you to _fly_ us towards the. Up over the trees so that I can have a clear shot. We're wasting time! Let's go!  
  
A jittery scout bug hovered in front of Jinnai's face, spouting a mangled message that took all of two seconds to completely infuriate the Bugrom leader.  
WHAT!?! What are those damnable harpies doing out here in the middle of a stupid forest!? How did they know where we would be? Wait, never mind. Tell the periphary forces to spread out and outflank them! Order the supply transports to hold their positions and await further instructions! And get me my helmet!  
  
Can you see them? John had his eyes shut tight against the piercing wind, and his voice seemed distant and indistinct.  
Yeah, I got them, Shayla shouted back to him, reinforcing his hold around her waist with one arm and sheilding her eyes with the other, hang on just one more minute.  
John grunted in response. Despite her clear enthusiasm for the coming battle, he felt like a tugboat sent out to kill a battleship. They waited for what seemed an eternity, with the steady rumbling of the approaching Bugrom army growing louder and louder, the knot in John's stomach growing tighter and tighter, until finally the sound was so great the he was sure they must be right over the Bugrom.  
Then, with a joyous war whoop Shayla cried out and John sent them hurtling across the treetops towards the very center of the advancing guard. Shayla's aura formed around them and struck out against the ground, sending plumes of flame towering over the trees and casting eerie shadows across her vision. One fireball after another erupted upon the Bugrom formations, augmented by John's powers, and their strange high-pitched screeching cries were barely audible against the thunder of flame and smoke that Shayla was producing.  
But before they had made it a hundred meters, the Bugrom troops abruptly vanished.  
  
Jinnai swallowed what felt like a baseball. They were hovering almost directly over him, and that red-haired priestess of violence seemed to be staring straight at him. The American kid was holding her by the waist, and as Jinnai watched they seemed to power up for their final attack.  
  
Let me try something, John shouted enthusiastically.  
Shayla responded, Oh no, not while you've got me this far off the ground. Take us back to the cutter.  
This'll just take a sec, John insisted, then placed his right hand over his lamp. A brief flash eminated from it, and then, as though he'd sucked all the air out from under them, they began to lose altitude.  
Shayla screamed, What are you doing! I told you to wait, dammit!  
The wind began to whip them around like a storm-tossed sea, and John cried out in frustration, I, I don't understand, what's happening...  
Finally, his concentration completely broken, they dropped out of the sky like a pair of stones.  
  
The muscles that controlled Jinnai's mandibles didn't seem to be functioning properly. Two seconds ago he had been bracing himself for a fiery death, and now his executioners had practically fallen into his lap!  
Well, a very large bed of sponge moss, really, and a good thing too; his hostages would be much more valuable if they were undamaged. Most of the Bugrom in the immediate area were too scattered (or too dead) to be paying much attention, but Groucho had the presence of mind to order what few there were to converge on the intruders. Just as they had begun to move, though, the red-haired woman sat up and cursed.  
Shit! See, I told you to head back. Dammit, where'd they all go?  
If this was some kind of trick, she was a damned good actress. The priestess looked around in genuine confusion, as if what she were looking for was behind the Bugrom that surrounded her.  
I'll bet that rotten little turd's got the Phantom Tribe working for him again! Hey John, wake up! We need your lamp, quick!  
The American kid rose much more slowly than the priestess had, obviously favoring his right side, and his only response was a dull moan.  
The insult snapped Jinnai out of his trance. ROTTEN LITTLE TURD?! How dare you mock me to my face, when you're completely surrounded by my invincible troops and totally at my mercy?  
She's right, you know, said Nahato from just behind Jinnai's shoulder.  
Jinnai screamed in response. Wha, what the hell are you doing here? And just what do mean by that blasphemous remark?  
Nahato appeared to congeal into being from a mist of black vapors, and smiled thinly. That we are working for you again. She's right; their whole party can't see you right now. But we're having great difficulty maintaining it in the presence of that bitch priestess, so I'd suggest you hurry on your way before the effect wears off.  
Jinnai regarded the phantom for a moment, then nodded to Groucho. The general bug blew his whistle, and the remaining troops darted away into the forest at top speed. Jinnai's dais began to move, but he held up his hand to pause his advance.  
And what about my first question? Just what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?  
Nahato allowed a slight look of pity to cross his face; pity for the fool who had trusted him to be the savior of this mad desire to control the world, when the only real option was to destroy it. But then his features hardened. You have your own secret' assets, and we have ours.  
The priestess of violence turned abruptly towards them and shouted Who's there? Show yourselves, you cowards! Shayla fired a random burst of flame into an unfortunate few of the Bugrom.  
Nahato continued. It is already becoming difficult to hide your movements. Leave. Now. Those final words could have been hammered out of iron, but Jinnai refused to budge.  
If we're discovered, then you will be too. Tell me what I want to know, and then we'll leave.  
You still don't understand, do you? Nahato replied. We've no ties to each other, except when it's convinient. You will leave, now, and you may consider this the last time you will be rescued.  
With that, the phantom faded from view, and Jinnai pounded his clenched fists on the arms of his chair, then pointed in the direction of his fleeing troops and moved on.  
  
I've, I've almost, got it... The strain in Cerin's voice was almost enough to make Afura feel tired, but after another few seconds of gritting her teeth together hard enough to break them, Cerin gave up and slumped to the ground, exhausted.  
I almost, got it, she panted, I almost broke through their illusion. Afura raised her hands and erected a cyclone-like barrier of wind around them and the cutter.  
I hope John's allright, Afura commented gravely.  
What about Shayla-Shayla? Qawoor asked.  
Afura bared her teeth in a humorless grin. She can take care of herself.  
As though to prove the point, one minute later a bright orange glow appeared at the edge of Afura's barrier and Shayla stepped through it, trailing flames and holding John up by her shoulder.  
Would someone _please_ tell wonderboy here that he shouldn't go messing around with his lamp when he's flying someone else around? Shayla yelled as she moved towards the center of Afura's shield. This idiot nearly got us both killed!  
Afura ran over to John and took his other arm over her shoulder. What happened? she asked. John was holding one hand protectively over his right side, and was taking in sharp breaths between his teeth. He made no effort to respond, but instead slumped gingerly against the base of a tree and hugged his legs up against his chest.  
I tried to... he began slowly, but was soon drowned out by the advancing tide of Bugrom, despite Afura's barrier. The ground beneath them was quaking as though to give way, and an eerie wail was being carried on the wind as the hundreds of soldiers were scrambling across the ground. They made what sounded like a war cry.  
Many of them tried to get through the barrier, but they were thrown back against the trees with a sickening crunch. The thunder continued for a few minutes, then subsided, and Afura flew up above the barrier.  
They've gone, she said when she touched back down, then walked over and crouched in front of John. Now, tell me what happened.  
I already told you what happened! Shayla shouted indignantly from behind her. Or doesn't it matter to you that I almost died?  
Of course it matters! Afura shot back. But without John's lamp we might as well go home. Cerin can't peirce the Phantom Tribe barrier by herself.  
She turned back to John. Well? What did you hurt? Can you still help us?  
His teeth were grinding together as he fought to keep the pain at bay, but he managed a choppy nod. Sure. Just a few broken ribs. We gotta try.  
Cerin walked up and knelt next to John. Then let's not waste any more time, she said, and she placed her hands on his lamp. John's eyes were already shut, and Cerin closed hers to concentrate. Their lamps began to glow feircely, and after a few seconds, the air around them seemed to twist and distort.  
Afura brought her hands together, then thrust them aside as if to open a shuttered window, and her wind barrier folded itself away, leaving small clouds of dirt and debris to settle on the floor of the forest. Everything in the forest, from the ground they were standing on to the trees that surrounded the small clearing, was shimmering as though they were seeing it from the other end of a vast expanse of desert.  
Then, abruptly, a red laser-like beam shot in front of them through the dust clouds, then another, then five more, until a tight-woven web of focused light criss crossed it's way around a small patch of forest in front of them. Their vision stabilized again, and John glanced up.  
he said.  
The other priestesses - except Cerin, who was still concentrating mightily - were staring dumbly at the whisker-thin lines of red light, and Afura turned her head towards John.  
she asked.  
Beams of focused light, John answered through sharp breaths. We used something similar back home for security devices. As soon as you interrupt the beam, they can detect it. Seems like a lot of work to guard something that's already invisible.  
Could you and Cerin get through them? Afura asked.  
John chose that moment to groan painfully and double over, and Afura glanced at Cerin. She seemed about ready to collapse herself, so Afura put a hand on her shoulder.  
That's enough, Cerin. We have to leave now so we can stop the Bugrom before the get to Laidae.  
Cerin let go of John's lamp, and let out a long-held breath. Abruptly the red lasers disappeared, covered again by the illusion, and Shayla and Afura lifted John off the ground and carried him back to the cutter as gently as they could manage.


	17. A Familiar Fight

::Chapter Ten::  
  


They were no longer invisible; Cerin was too exhausted from her earlier efforts to hide the entire ship. They were no longer silent; Elam had finally passed out, but he'd held out long enough to be conscious as Afura bandaged his wounds.  
  
But there were still three Muldoon Priestesses on that cutter, and they were as deadly as ever. The group sped across the treetops so fast that almost hurt to stay on deck. Afura was putting all her energy into propelling them forward by an incredible gale as she helmed the ship, so that they caught up to the Bugrom troops rather rapidly.  
  
Or at least, they should have.  
  
Dammit! Where'd they go? Shayla yelled over the wind.  
  
Maybe the Phantom Tribe is still hiding them? Qawoor replied. Then she pointed out ahead.   
  
The city-state of Laidae, the largest single expanse of populated land in all of El Hazard, was just visible near the horizon. It's towers weren't quite as tall as those in Roshtaria, but surrounding the city proper were endless rows of houses and apartments, and outside of them was an almost unbroken stretch of farmland, with a smaller tributary to the River of God running right through the middle of it all.  
  
The cutter was sweeping up from the southeast, and the city was growing larger with every passing heartbeat. Then, the disturbance of the Bugrom troops moving though the forest became visible at last.  
  
Shayla cried out. Ha ha! Gotchya!  
  


****  


  
Jinnai's heart was pounding with the usual pre-battle excitement. He was sitting atop his own army, a band of loyal fighters that lived to serve his every whim, and the sheer power of it electrified him.  
  
Go! Onward my devoted soldiers! The time for revenge is finally here! We are invincible! We will crush everything that stands in our path to victory, and conquest! Prepare yourselves to destroy the Alliance! There- uh?  
  
Jinnai halted his rantings. There was a faint sound coming from behind them, just barely audible over the noise of his troops. But it grew louder, and louder, and his heart froze momentarily as Jinnai recognized what sounded for all the world like a jet engine overtaking them.  
  


****  


  
Even Afura was grinning in triumph, but then she noticed something that wiped that grin away.  
  
Oh no, the Laidaean Army is massing! They're taking up defensive positions outside the farmlands!  
  
Shayla asked. Isn't that a good thing?  
  
Afura risked turning around quickly to yell back. Not if their troops are in our line of fire!  
  
They were passing over the Bugrom now, approaching the edge of the forest. Just up ahead it was obvious that the Laidaeans had spotted the oncoming army, and a small number of troops were positioning themselves on the outskirts of their territory. Army cutters and larger sailships were beginning to swarm out from the city, towing what looked like tremendous cannons behind them.  
  
Afura said, then leaned forward as though to hurry the cutter on even faster.  
  
Suddenly, Qawoor rushed up to Afura and grabbed her shoulders. Afura! Set me down over there! I can do it! She pointed towards the river.  
  


****  


  
It was obviously Roshtarian, Jinnai could make out that much, but it passed straight over them without slowing down for a second. He breathed a small sigh of relief that they weren't going to have to deal with those damned harpies again, then he caught sight of the edge of the forest, with the borders of his next conquest just visible through the tree trunks. His lips parted in a predatory grin.  
  


****  


  
Afura brought the cutter back down to earth on the top of a small ledge that overlooked the river. Are you certain about this? she asked Qawoor as the younger priestess climbed over the side of the deck.  
  
Of course. Don't worry, Miss Afura, I know what I'm doing. She smiled and winked, then hopped off the short ladder onto the ground.  
  
Immediately she ran up to the tip of the ledge, and spread her hands out before her like a fan. The Lamp of Water flashed brilliantly, and a soft blue glow began to suffuse the air around Qawoor. A deep, humming resonance was building up, echoing through the small ravine and growing in strength with the energy the priestess was channeling. After a few seconds the river began to swell and soon was overflowing it's banks as it took on the same blue radiance, and Qawoor let out a reverberating and turned her palms upwards.  
  
An incredible column of water, fifty, one hundred, two hundred feet across rose from the once tiny river, and it climbed into the air with terrifying speed.  
  
The last of the Bugrom had just made it out of the forest and into the clearing, and they were already recieving some light cannon fire from the defences that the Liadaean Army had emplaced. Small explosions threw up mounds of dirt around Jinnai at the rear and center of his impressive formation, but they hardly made a dent in the tide of blue-shelled troops that were pouring over the landscape like giant ants.  
  
The front lines of his troops were suffering a bit more at the hands of the enemy divisons, but the Bugrom were moving so fast that the poor humans didn't have a chance to adjust their defensive lines before they were broken in quick succesion and eliminated.  
  
Bright flares exploded overhead, bathing the field of battle with an eery pinkish glow. The opposition Army was falling back in chaos, and Jinnai was just about to exhult in the triumph of his nighttime surpise attack when something huge and unnatural appeared a few miles to his left. A bright blue light was shining up from the river like a spotlight, and then, to Jinnai's absolute terror, a wave of terrific proportions rose up, and began to spread itself over his troops.  
  
Cerin had cracked her eyes open wearily to see why they had stopped, but now they grew wide in amazement as she and the other priestesses watched what Qawoor was doing. As though it were no more difficult to control than a garden hose, the water priestess turned and pointed in the direction of the Bugrom hordes. The wave spread out over the valley, blotting out the stars and drowning all other noises despite the proximity of the battle, and then, in an earth-rending crash, came back down on the other end of the battle field.  
  


****  


  
Jinnai had wasted precious seconds, he knew, staring at the impossible wave of water that was sure to bring his death. But he managed to sound the retreat, albeit in a most un-dignified high-pitched screech, and his Bugrom obeyed immediately and began to turn back to the forest.  
  
He also knew that it was too late for most of them. Being in the rearguard, he and a handful of others made it far enough into the woods to save themselves. What happened to the others was almost indescribable.  
  


****  


  
The wave now encompassed the body of the Bugrom troops like a canopy, and where it touched the ground the waters began to sweep them across the clearing and towards the river. Huge disembodied fists formed among the waves, gathering up the Bugrom that clung desperately to the ground. The sweep continued until it reached the river's swelled banks, then began to gather itself into a wall again, this one containing the hundreds upon hundreds of wretched Bugrom that were clawing desperately at the water, trying to break themselves free.  
  
All the way across the ground the wave was laying waste to the land, uprooting trees and flooding valleys. What few farms were out this far had been abandoned when the Laidaean government had first sounded the invasion alarm, but the head of the Army's troop formations were swept up into the wave as well.  
  
For what seemed like hours the waters beat along the land, until the flow was shut off from the river and the last of the waves gathered in what few stragglers were left. All the time the wave on the river that contained the troops was growing ever longer, until it seemed to stretch beyond the horizon back south towards the River of God. Finally, the water ceased flowing over the clearing, and Qawoor lifted herself upon a small wave of her own, and moved to the end of the wave.  
  
She pushed her hands forward, and the wave began to move down the river, slowly at first, then with mounting speed. Laidae, being just slightly to the north and far to the west of Caldan, was situated not fifty miles from the River of God. Thus, even as fast as she could move them, it took nearly fourty minutes for Qawoor to reach the River.  
  
Afura followed her closely in the cutter, and several times nearly picked her up as the strain of this incredible effort began to take it's toll. Here and there, the wave lost cohesion enough to deposit a few drowned Bugrom along the banks of the river, and the wave began to sag dangerously as it passed through a fishing town that hugged the coast between the tributary and the River of God.  
  
Qawoor managed to get the wave out beyond the tides around the coast, and several miles into the River before she was forced to let go completely. When she did the wave collapsed, and so did she, crashing uncontrolled and unconscious into the waters.  
  
Afura yelled. Shayla, take the controls, quick! Shayla rushed for the seat that Afura lept out of, and as Shayla brought the cutter around in a curve Afura backflipped up into the air and swept down to the water's surface.  
  
She managed to grab Qawoor before the girl sank, and floated softly back up to the cutter.  
  
Is she okay? Shayla asked with more than the usual note of apprehension in her voice.  
  
Afura set Qawoor down on the deck and began to remove her sopping wet clothes. She'll be allright, she's just unconscious. Go get some dry clothes from her locker, and start a small fire down there as well - we can't let her catch hypothermia.  
  
Shayla nodded and got to work, and Cerin staggered across the deck and knelt down next to Qawoor.  
  
They weren't kidding, where they? Cerin asked.  
  
Afura said, confused.  
  
The Seminary, Cerin explained, when they told us that she would be the most powerful of the priestesses someday. Looks like someone stole your thunder, dear. Those last words might have been an insult but for the smile that crossed Cerin's lips as she said them, and Afura found herself agreeing with her companion for the first time that she could remember.  
  


****  
  


Jinnai slammed his fist down so hard on the blotter that Groucho flinched backwards from him, and Jinnai didn't seem to notice the small trickle of blood coming from his knuckles.  
  
HOW? How could those damnable harpies know just where we'd be?! An entire division of my best troops washed away like drowning rats! My plan was perfect! Damn, why does my hand hurt so much?  
  
Jinnai finally sat down and started to suck on his knuckles to stop the bleeding. There were still plenty of options open to him, since no decent military conqueror would create a strategy that depended on everything going right, but the loss of troops had hurt his offensive power considerably.  
  
That _was_ unfortunate, wasn't it? Nahato asked from the shadows behind him.  
  
GHA! Will you STOP doing that? You're going to give me a heart attack. Jinnai spun around angrily, and the pesky teenager emerged from a dimly lit corner into the light.  
  
Nahato smiled. I'm afraid that the priestesses were attempting to uncover something that we had... hidden in the forest. They did not know about your attack until you ran right into them. You should have come up closer to the farms.  
  
Jinnai's lip curled. I shouldn't have expected any better from the likes of your puny intellect. What good would it have done me to have my tunnels discovered before I could use them? I had to dig above ground far enough away that no one would run into them by accident.  
  
Listen to me, said Nahato, as though he hadn't been spoken to at all, it is in both our interests that Laidae be destroyed. Not taken over; destroyed. They will not be expecting you to attack the same place twice.  
  
Yeah, you know why? Jinnai snapped. Because only a complete idiot would do that! They'll have all sorts of extra defences built up around that place, if only to ease the minds of their rotten little subjects. It'd be suicidal, unless I drew more troops from our other positions, which I won't do because it would weaken us too much! Now go home and play you Nintendo, kid, the grown ups have a war to run.  
  
If you had any intelligence at all, continued Nahato calmly, although it was getting harder to keep his hand away from the knife at his belt, you'd have found out that they haven't added any new equipment to their defences. In fact, their citizens demanded that their outer defences be fortified no matter what the cost, so they've actually spread their troops out instead of concentrating them in one or two locations. Furthermore- here he couldn't quite keep the condescension out of his voice -because we wish to see Laidae destroyed as well, we will keep you concealed and provide air support for the attack. Our spies have determined that there are no other priestesses in the area, so the danger to your troops will be minimal.  
  
Jinnai was fuming so much that he didn't notice that Nahato was speaking in absolutes. He glanced at the map again; Laidae was the biggest supplier of agricultural goods to the Alliance troops in the southern regions, and burning the farms would put a real crimp in their ability to keep those troops supplied. Besides, Jinnai had no compunction against making a tactical withdrawal, but it would be good for his troops to smash the target that had escaped them, however great the fluke of their defeat had been.  
  
After a few minutes of contemplation, Jinnai had regained his composure. Allright, I hate to admit it, but you have a point. But I am still in command of this operation, and once we're in battle I expect you to obey my every order, understand?  
  
Nahato nodded. He'd gotten everything he needed, so without another word he vanished again, and Jinnai was left to ponder the map in front of him. If this attack succeeded, then it would hurt the Alliance a great deal. But he couldn't shake the feeling that despite all the precautions he had been taking, his destiny was falling further and further into the hands of the Phantom Tribe.  
  
He called for another cup of tea, and as soon as Groucho had brought it to him he began to labor furiously over his plans.  
  


****  
  


Well? What progress?  
  
The scientist Welir bowed at Nahato's approach, then turned to regard a floating display panel.  
  
We have isolated the frequency of the power that this cannon requires for normal operation. As soon as the conversion matrix is complete, we will be able to use a standard fusion battery to provide the energy.  
  
Nahato smiled. And what about the weapon itself?  
  
Welir touched a few controls on his panel, and a new set of calculations appeared. It appears to focus it's energy through some crystalline structure that our sensors are having difficulty analyzing. It seems to be offworld in origin.  
  
Nahato's smile disappeard.   
  
Meaning that we will not be able to reproduce it's effects until we can discover how to manufacture a similar structure. We are of course working as hard as we can, but without complete data, I'm afraid it may be some time before we will be able to build our own from scratch.  
  
I see. You've done well here, Welir. Inform me when the weapon will be ready to test.  
  



	18. Book Three: The New Journey

::Book Three::  
::Chapter One::  
  


  
That was the only adjective that came to Makoto's mind, since the rest of it was just catching up to what his eyes were showing him.  
Londs nodded in agreement from beside him. They were standing on a catwalk two floors above the machinery and incredible din of the factory where Makoto's flyers were being produced. In one corner were the forges and workers who were pressing new engine blocks and transmission housings, with a small stack of them awaiting parts from other assorted factories and craftsmen from throughout El Hazard.  
The bulk of the space was given over to the mass production of the flyer's teardrop-shaped hulls, and the sails that would keep them in the air. Several of the frames were being welded together, and thanks to the success of Alielle's test flights the ships were already being made much larger to accommodate a normal pilot and weapons.  
We do not posess the industrial capacity to build all of the parts in our own factories, so an tremendous parts network had to be established. Londs was carefully enunciating his words so that he would be heard over the noise, as he spoke into Makoto's distracted thoughts. This is the largest and most elaborate undertaking in the history of our great kingdom, and I wanted you to see the fruits of your efforts.  
Makoto nodded, still somewhat shocked. Thank you, Londs. And you shouldn't be so modest, what you have here is remarkable. I only wish there was more I could do to help.  
Londs laughed out loud, then put a large meaty hand on Makoto's shoulder and led him back into the corridors that connected the factory to it's offices and living spaces.  
My boy, I can't think of anything else we could have asked of you, Londs said cheerfully, but, if I may ask this, what will you be doing now that your designs are complete?  
Oh, I'll probably still tweak them here and there, Makoto said, bowing slightly when another project scientist passed in the hallway and bowed to him, but right now, there's something more important that has to be taken care of.  
Londs' eyebrows went up.   
Makoto began hesitantly, Dr. Stalubaugh and I have posited that there might be a lot of the technology of the ancients in the caverns beneath El Hazard that's remained hidden because no one can activate it. Since they live down there, I think that's one of the reasons that the Phantom Tribe are so much more advanced than you are - no offense - so I wanted to see if I could find some of it.  
A few seconds passed, then Londs began laughing again. Sir Makoto, do you mean to say that you plan to infiltrate the territory of the Phantom Tribe even as they wage war upon us? Ha ha, surely you jest.  
I'm not joking, Londs. Makoto stopped walking, and Londs turned to regard him very gravely.  
Makoto, I appreciate your bravery, but this is no time to be running off on foolish errands. There is plenty of research to be done right here in Floristica. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that I cannot permit you to go.  
If what I were looking for was here, I wouldn't have planned this! Makoto shot back hotly. And in case you've forgotten, I've never been officially made a citizen of Roshtaria. That means that I'm not bound to obey the word of the royal house, and if I decide to go, I'm going!  
Don't be stupid, boy! Londs snapped. His face was beginning to flush as his temper suddenly raced to meet Makoto's. We have no idea where the Phantom Tribe may be hiding! And even if you were to find these caves, you'd be totally defenseless! If you were to be taken captive, we would surely never see you again.  
I won't be defenseless, Makoto answered, Ura and Mr. Fujisawa have already agreed to go with me. Besides, there's a good chance that I'll find something else that we can use in the war, something that will defeat the Bugrom without having to use the Eye of God again. Isn't that worth risking a few lives?  
Not when they're the two most respected war heroes in all of El Hazard, Londs said. And Mr. Fujisawa is quite occupied at the Academy, teaching earth battle tactics to the War College. I'm afraid it simply cannot be allowed.  
You've got plenty of other generals for that, Makoto replied, and Mr. Fujisawa sets his own schedule. He's been working with the Academy for almost four years now, and he has plenty of time off coming to him. The two men were starting to cool down already, as plenty of curious workers poked their head out of their offices to watch them sparring. We'll be fine. If you want to try posting a guard at Mr. Fujisawa's door to keep him from going climbing, then be my guest.  
Londs chuckled again involuntarily as the image presented itself to his imagination, and Makoto smiled back.  
Very well, said Londs magnanimously, since it is clear that you will not be dissuaded, I will ensure that you have everything you require. But I will ask that you not linger any one place for too long, and to return here immediately if you see any large numbers of enemy troops, Bugrom or otherwise.  
Makoto nodded. Agreed. Thanks, Londs. I know this is the right thing to do.  
  
Oh honey, not now! There'll be plenty of time for hiking when the war is over! There was desperation in Miz's voice, and such raw emotion that Masamichi found his resolve wavering despite all the arguments he had prepared beforehand.  
But Miz, Makoto needs me. I can't let him go out there alone.  
Makoto is a grown man who can take care of himself! Miz retorted. Makoto doesn't have a wife who needs him at home, or a daughter who'll have to grow up without a father if he dies! I'm not letting you leave, and that's final!  
he began softly, please, please don't make this harder than it has to be. We won't be gone for long, and I've already promised the Academy no fighting. If we run into any Bugrom, we'll retreat. I promise.  
And what about the Phantom Tribe? Neither of you two can see them, and you might be walking right into their territory!  
This was actually the one point that still made Masamichi nervous, despite Makoto's assurances that the Tribe had never been observed in the area they would be going to. They had no idea how many members of the Tribe there actually were in El Hazard, much less where they all might be living.  
Masamichi crossed his arms and grunted. Like I said, at the first sign of trouble we'll be out of there. And besides, if the Phantom Tribe wanted us dead, they would have tried to assassinate us by now. If there's even a chance that we can discover something down there, we've got to try. I want Mika to grow up in a world safe from the threat of constant war.  
But why do you have to go? Aren't there plenty of other people in Floristica that could help Makoto?  
We might need my super powers to get through those caves. Plus, if we do have to leave in a hurry, two of us will move a lot faster than a whole mess of guards.  
Oh Masamichi, Miz folded herself into her husband's embrace and began to cry softly into his shirt. You will hurry back, won't you?  
He smiled. Of course I will. There's nothing more important to me in this world than your safety. Masamichi lowered his lips to his wife's, and she kissed him back with a tender urgency. They lingered for a time, then Masamichi pushed himself away and went to pack his bag.  
  


****  
  


That could easily be the dumbest thing I've ever done.  
Afura restrained herself from agreeing too quickly with John's assesment, since he obviously felt awful, and not just from the broken ribs.  
The doctor was still hovering around John's bed, making sure that everything was in place. You're just lucky that there weren't any bone splinters in your lungs, son. The doctor had a cool, impersonal attitude as he spoke to John, and his very lack of emotion made the worry on Afura's face that much harder to bear.  
If there had been, continued the doctor, we might not have been able to save your right lung from collapsing itself. As it stands, you will be in pain for some time, although the fractures themselves will heal within the week as long as you take your medicine. Call a nurse if you need anything. The doctor made a few notes on his clipboard, then left John and Afura alone in the sterile white hospital room.  
You still haven't told me just what you were trying to do, Afura asked gently.  
John let out a long, rattling sigh. I was trying to break the Phantom Tribe's illusion. I thought, if I could, then Shayla could stop the Bugrom right there, and we could finish our mission.  
Afura's eyes widened in disbelief. And what made you think that you were going to be able to do that _and_ stay in the air?  
Tears formed up at the corner of John's eyes, and his voice grew shakier. It just, it all seemed so _easy_, like I was born to do this. And Cerin showed me how to, to defeat illusions like that, and I thought I could do it, but instead, I almost...  
He seemed on the verge of breaking down, but he bit his lip and continued. I don't know what I'm doing. I've been here for a few months, but you all have been doing this since you were little kids. I shouldn't have been given this thing in the first place. John held up his right arm to point out his lamp, then laid it back down.  
When I get out of here, I'm not going back. I'll apply for a job as palace mechanic or something, a job where I won't be able to hurt anyone.  
Afura allowed a few moments of silence to fill the air. It was obvious that John was hurt, but was just as obvious that he didn't really plan to quit. she said, it's hard enough to hurt Shayla even when you're trying to. I should know. This got an involuntary chuckle from John, so she took up his left hand in her own and continued. And besides, you've been given an incredible gift, one that not even the Headmistress understands fully. Everyone who's come from earth has had a special power. But it does no good if those who wield such powers aren't good people, like with Jinnai. Imagine how much better off we'd be if he were interested in negotiating a peace agreement, instead of being bent on conquest.  
A thought struck John, which for a moment replaced his pain with a look of curiosity. Hey, why does he want to conquer El Hazard, anyway?  
From what Nanami has told us, and from how I've seen him behave, he's a power hungry psychotic with a pronounced God complex and an obsession - bordering on hysteria - with punishing Makoto, Afura answered prosaically.  
So he got teased a lot in school, John said.  
  
  
But that's not the point, Afura said, the point is that you could have chosen not to come out with us, or to ignore your power all together. You didn't because you're a good person, and right now El Hazard needs all the good people it can get.  
John sighed, then with some effort managed to get his other hand onto Afura's. Thanks. It'll be a while before I believe that myself, but it's nice to know that someone else does.  
Afura smiled sweetly, then chuckled. John, you can't _not_ be good. In fact, you remind me a lot of Makoto, in some ways. He's the same way, like there's not one evil bone in his body.  
Yeah, I got that impression the first day I came here. I -  
Hey buddy! You up yet? Shayla practically shouted as she parted the privacy curtain around John's bed and walked in. I hear the doc's got you patched up pretty good. How ya feelin'?  
John and Afura stared for a moment, knocked totally off balance by the sudden intrusion. Shayla stood there with a silly grin on her face, before she noticed that the two were holding hands. When she did, her grin disappeared, and she tried to swallow the new lump in her throat.  
Shayla, hi, said John. Um, yeah, I'm feeling better, thanks.  
Oh, I uh, Shayla stuttered, I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I'll go.  
Before either of them could say anything more, Shayla spun around and left the room as suddenly as she had appeared.  
Oh, damn, Afura said, that girl has the worst timing.  
John stared up at Afura. Looks like she need a friend.  
But, you're...  
Taken care of. Go talk to her.  
Afura's face developed a complicated look of thanks, pity, worry, and affection all at once. Thank you. She squeezed his hands gently, then stood up and walked out after Shayla.  
  


****  
  


It was a proven fact that there were Phantom Tribe spies in several different places in Floristica, although Royal Security had so far failed to find them. So there was no fanfare to accompany Makoto and Mr. Fujisawa as they slipped out of the palace when the sun went down. Both men wore perfectly common traveling clothes so as not to stand out, and both men paused at the entrance to the city, where one of the great stone bridges spanned the river that carved the forest in two.  
They looked back at the flickering lights of their homes and drank in the sights and smells and sounds of a city alive in the night, then turned their backs to it and walked out into the darkness.  
  


****  
  


The following morning, Nanami was in a fowl mood.  
Just what do you mean he's gone? Where'd he go to? When did he leave? Her tone and temper revealed no signs that she had been nearly comatose as little as a few days ago, although a theraputic wrap was still wound around her head like a circlet. Her fists were clenched in front of her as though she were trying to strangle her childhood friend from a distance, and Londs had backed up nervously against the railing that looked over the war room.  
They left in the night so they would not be followed. Please, Miss Nanami, I believe Makoto knew...  
KNEW WHAT?  
That you would try to stop him. He thinks this mission is important. There was sympathy in Londs' voice, and resignation, too. Nanami seemed to sense that he thought the whole idea was ludicrous as well, so she stopped advancing on Londs and walked instead to the railing.  
Oh, that jerk. Of course I would have tried to stop him, but he would've gone anyway. He thinks he's protecting me, somehow, like I shouldn't have to worry about him.  
Londs came up next to her and placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.  
I'm sure they will be fine. Mr. Fujisawa knows just how much danger they are in, and if anyone can protect Makoto, he can.  
Nanami crossed her arms on the railing and rested her chin on them, blindly studying the troop dispositions on the map and the incessant chatter of battle reports being sent and recieved by the lookouts.  
After a few moments of relative peace, a flurry of sudden activity from one corner of the room caught her eye. A messenger seemed to be telling one of the army captains something the captain refused to accept. They argued for a minute, then the messenger handed a scrap of paper to the captain. He glanced over it, then looked up to where Londs and Nanami were standing. With a few quick strides he bounded across the room and up the steps, bowed, and made his report.  
Sir Londs, we've news from Laidae. The Bugrom have attacked again, with the help of the Phantom Tribe.  
  
Not two minutes later the princesses, Alielle, Dr. Stalubaugh, Nanami, Londs, and several nameless generals stood around the war room map, and watched as another marker was taken from the board. But this time, instead of replacing it with an indication of the enemy troops, the position of Laidae was left open.  
Rune Venus asked. It was the obvious question, but no one else had brought themselves to ask it.  
The same reason he destroyed the village of Ilane at the beginning of the First War. To show us his might. Londs' voice had a quiver around the edges, as though he was trying to will his anger into a physical form that could take the revenge he alone could not. But when he spoke again, there was more defiance than rage in his tone.  
Well, this time he will learn that we are not so helpless as we once were. This time, we have the means to defeat him ourselves, and without Ifurita, he cannot hold out forever.  
If we can find him, Dr. Stalubaugh pointed out grimly.  
Londs' head drooped, and he began to massage his temple reflexively. Yes, we've been searching for months, but I am afraid that without the help of Nanami or John, it will take us much longer than I feared to uncover his base. They have not built their new hive in any of the lands of El Hazard; we have searched everywhere and found nothing.  
The attacks seem to be radiating from a point to the south-east, Dr. Stalubaugh continued, perhaps beyond the mountain range where the Trigger of Destruction was discovered. But we have searched that area with particular attention, and each time without success. And now that our supply lines must be extended to the areas surrounding Laidae, our resources are being stretched to their uppermost limits. I fear that to keep the remenants of the Laidaean Army operational, we must divert men and supplies from the Northern Stronghold.  
But that means US, you idiot! Fatora yelled, You can't draw troops from the capital! I forbid it!  
Rune exclaimed. Almost all of the background chatter abruptly ceased at the royal outburst, as the ruling patriarch's full regal temper came lashing out.  
You will address the doctor properly, or I will have you ejected from the war room permanently! Fatora's expression of stubborn rage quickly turned into one of real fear as her sister bore down upon her. We may have lost this battle, and we may be facing the same madman who nearly destroyed our entire world, but we must maintain our House and our dignity if we are to be victorious in the future. I will not have a member of this family belittling one of our most respected servants in public under _any_ circumstances! Is that _very_ clear?  
Fatora nodded quickly. Her face had gone bone white, and Alielle was fairly cowering behind her. But Rune wasn't done yet.  
Now, you can either make some sort of useful contribution, or you may leave. At that Rune Venus turned back to look out over the room, and the military staffers went scurrying back to their jobs as her gaze took them in.  
I, I... Fatora stammered, I'm sorry sister. I just, I want to do something.  
Rune sighed very audibly, and her shoulders drooped a little bit, as though giving way ever so slightly under the tremendous pressure of running a state at war. I know you do, Fatora. We all feel the same way. If it would make you feel better, I think it would be a good idea to send a royal envoy to Gannan. If we wish our people to be fearless, then we must show them that we are willing to risk our lives alongside theirs.  
Londs began, I must protest! We cannot protect the both of you if you split up, and there could be...  
Spies, yes, I know Londs, Rune interrupted. There could be spies in our bedroom at night. There could be spies in the kitchen poisoning our food. There are a hundred different ways to kill us, but it would be much easier for them to kill the both of us if we are always in the same place. This way, if anything should happen to either of us, the other can step in to lead Roshtaria. I appreciate your efforts, Londs, more than you can ever know. But it is time to come out of hiding and start behaving like the Royal House of the Kingdom of Roshtaria again.  
Yes, your highness. Londs' face reflected his resignation, and he motioned for a servant to come over and began passing orders.  
Rune turned to Fatora, the question plain on her own face. Fatora's color hadn't quite returned, but she bit her lip and nodded an affirmative. For the first time in weeks, Rune smiled.  
  


****  
  


Any sane man might have laughed at the sight of Jinnai in his red Bugrom suit, with a set of blue goggles over his eyes and a silly grin on his face. As it was, Nahato could just barely stifle a giggle, and even then had to wait until Jinnai's back was turned. He and Diva were perched upon their platforms, and if it was hard to get a sense of their emotions, the army of rainbow-hued soldiers surrounding them was even more stoic.  
They were ahead of schedule, if only slightly, and this fact combined with their latest triumph had made Jinnai even more difficult to deal with than usual. The Bugrom, their leaders, and a few Phantom scientists were all sitting on a rock outcropping on the top of some nameless volcano in the middle of some nameless island as far away from the mainland of El Hazard as was practical. Just visible below them was a small tangle of white coats and blue bodies, all hovering around a very, very large gun.  
A giant and insanely complicated looking fusion power plant was sitting on a large scaffolding at the base of the volcano, and protruding from this was what looked for all the world like a long, dark grey spinal column with a grotesque horned human skull at the end. Even from this distance, the thing radiated a sense of evil and forboeding that set Jinnai's hairs on end.  
So this is it, huh? The weapon that I've been waiting for?  
Nahato decided to respond to Jinnai with an air of cautious optimism. This is the entire secondary weapons system from the Trigger, supplimented by a new reactor and a complete bio-organically based control system. We're ready to proceed with the first test.  
With his left arm Jinnai placed his binoculars to the goggles he had on, and his right arm he held out to the side. His fingers spread, he proclaimed, Prepare yourselves for the ultimate expression of my genius and my power! Three...  
Nahato and the few scientists put their own protective lenses on. The eyes of the Bugrom soldiers became like silver mirrors, and eerily, so did Diva's.  
  
Nahato spoke into a small communicator in his palm, and a grating, snarling noise began to eminate from the reactor.  
  
The noise grew louder and louder, until it seemed like the air itself was perparing to incinerate them.  
  
Jinnai's fingers closed into a fist, Nahato nodded to the scientists, and the humming noise abruptly ceased.  
For a full five seconds, absolutely nothing happened. Then, just as Jinnai opened his mouth to curse the Phantom Tribe for betraying him, a sky-blue lance of terrible energy lept from the gun and blew a fair bit off the top of another distant mountain.  
WAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH HA HA HUA HA HA HA HA!


	19. Past Revelation

::Chapter Two::  
  


I still say these darn caves are too humid. Whew! I feel like I'm back in the Kijo hot springs. Masamichi Fujisawa scrambled over the top of a large boulder, and skidded down the other side. His feet landed in a small pool of water, and the miner's lantern strapped to his forehead cast an eerie orange glow over a small clearing in the forest of rocks and deposited minerals.  
Hey Makoto! Hurry up! I think I found our campsite for the evening! No sooner had Fujisawa found a dry patch to sit down in did Makoto's bushy black hair appear at the top of the same boulder, along with a heavy wheezing sound and, at length, a pitiful groan.  
Sensei, are we there yet? I feel like we've been climbing for days already. Makoto struggled mightily to overcome the same obstacle that his sensei had practically lept over, then tumbled down the other side and landed with something less than aplomb in the puddle at the bottom.  
You know, Fujisawa said as he removed a water skin from his pack and opened the top, it is awfully warm down here. I always thought that caves were supposed to be ice cold. Eh. He took a long drink from the skin, then held it out for Makoto, who grabbed it and took a long pull of his own.  
We might be near a geothermal vent, or a magma flow. That would also explain the humidity. Makoto wiped a small dribble from his chin, then continued. At least we won't have any problems finding clean water to drink. All this condensation should be free of any bacteria.  
Fujisawa snorted. You should know better by now; the first rule of hiking is to purify everything you drink. I am not carrying you out of here if you get sick and we have to leave.  
Despite his exhaustion, Makoto chuckled. You're right, sensei. Well, are you ready to eat?  
I thought you'd never ask! Fujisawa replied, and they dug out their camping gear and began to prep their meal - cooked and packaged, according to a sticker on the box, With Loving Care and Quality Ingredients from Roshtaria's Own Shinonme Diner.  
  
After every last grain of rice and sliver of carrot - or what passed for carrots in El Hazard - had been consumed, the pair shut off their headlamps and bedded down for the night. The heat was too great for sleeping bags to be of much use, so they laid out on their pads in their boxers and fell asleep almost immediately.  
A few hours later, however, Makoto was awakened by something that he'd never expected in this hot and muggy cave. A tiny, almost imperceptable zephyr of cold, dry air blew across his face, and after he realized that it wasn't a dream, he sat up and reached for his lamp.  
A peircing orange glow, dim by topside standards but blinding in this land of perpetual darkness, illuminated their camp site. The cool air lingered over his hand for a second, then vanished, and Makoto began crawling along the ground in the direction the air had come from.  
His hand slipped and knocked over a small rock, and Fujisawa stirred from his sleep.  
Wuah? Is that you, Makoto?  
It's me, sensei.  
Whaddarya doin?  
Looking, for... Makoto paused, then crawled off into a small crevice between two boulders, and the feeble light of his lamp disappeared.  
Wait, Makoto! Looking for what? Fujisawa reached for his own lamp and flicked it on, then followed Makoto between the rocks.  
Fujisawa found his student crouched in front of a small ruler-straight crack in the solid rock face of the cavern, and from this crack a faint blue glow was seeping into the darkness, along with a miniscule current of cool dry air.  
Fujisawa asked. Makoto, what do you think it could be?  
Makoto put his hand on the crack, and traced it down into the dusty floor. I don't know. It almost feels like there should be an access point around here somewhere...  
Access to what?  
I don't know. Makoto was diggging into the dirt as far as he could, clearing away a small spot at the base of the crack. Then, his fingers struck something solid.  
Makoto shouted, then proceeded to clear away the remaining dirt around a small blue orb. The top half was just sticking up out of the ground, and the rest was buried beneath solid granite. Makoto said reluctantly, shall we find out where this leads?  
Fujisawa was still staring dumbly at the glowing blue fissure. I suppose, that's what we came here for.  
Makoto touched his hand to the orb and closed his eyes, and despite the high probability that it hadn't been seen in millennia, it responded by glowing gently.  
After a second the glow ceased, and the ground beneath their feet began to rumble. Huge boulders shifted in their place, dust choked the air, and the pair scrambled out of the rocks just as one of the boulders collapsed right behind them. When they reached their campsite, they turned to watch the wall in front of them open up.  
The door stopped moving, but the dust it had kicked up was nearly blinding. Makoto and Fujisawa wrapped a cloth around their faces and coughed up what they could, but in the stagnant air of the cavern it seemed to take hours for the dust to settle.  
When it did, a stronger blue glow revealed a corridor behind the door, identical to the ones that ran through the Eye of God like steel veins.  
  


****  
  


This is getting to be a bad habit, Afura said sagely as she watched Shayla down another glass of something awful.  
Ya know, Shayla replied, slowly, it seems to me that a certain missus has enough to take care of on her own plate without trying to steal food from her friends's too. Shayla opened her eyes wide over her glass and stared at Afura to try and make the point stick, but all it produced from Afura was a stifled giggle.  
What? Why are you so depressed, anyway? I thought you liked Makoto, not John. Afura reached for the bottle, but Shayla grabbed it away from her.  
Nuh uh! S'mine. Bee-sides, that's not it. I figgured, out of the three of us, you'd be the last one to settle down.  
Afura grew suddenly cold. What? Who says I'm settling down? And why not?  
Oh come on, Shayla slurred, 'Ice Queen!' You're about as warm as waterfall in winter. Phbt, hee hee hee hee! This was, for some drunk reason, incredibly funny to Shayla, and it was some minutes before she had recovered enough to finish off her bottle. This time, at least, she'd had the sense to stay out of public, and this corner of the Palace gardens was never crowded.  
Well, this routine is getting old, Afura said, suddenly fed up. I'm getting tired of always coming to cheer you up when you're too depressed to think straight, and I don't much care for your insults. You're a grown woman and a priestess to boot, and if you're too immature to deal with your own feelings by now, then you'll get no help from me.  
Shayla sat there, shocked into silence, and watched Afura get up and walk away. Accomplishing the kind of mood swing only a drunk can manage, bitter tears began to fill her eyes, for Afura was right; she _was_ being selfish and immature, and it _was_ pathetic that the only place she could find solace from her feelings was a bottle.  
Wait! Affy, I'm sorry! Afura! Shayla yelled, but her friend didn't even look back at her. She went to stand up, to go after Afura and convince her that she was wrong, but Shayla's legs weren't working right, and she misjudged her own weight and fell over onto the grass.  
Pathetic. She sat back up against the stone bench, took a swig straight from the bottle, and cried herself to sleep in the garden.  
  
The next morning, everyone gathered in the balcony overlooking the western gallery, where Fatora's heavily armed squadron of cutters and cruisers was preparing to leave. It seemed as though the entire Air Corps had turned out for the event, and every servant in the Palace was busy running around doing _something._  
Despite her outer calm, Rune fretted. A million different things could go wrong with this mission, not the least of which was Fatora, but to her mind this was still, ultimately, the right thing to do. Nanami had been given another week to recover, and was now being sent out with Fatora (quite against her wishes). John would stay behind and hopefully protect the palace.  
One thing was different about these cutters. There was a metal ring around the hull of each ship, and as the sails were filled again with an opaque sheet of energy, a dome of similar appearance was generated from the ring. Over Fatora's cruiser it was almost totally white, and from the deck Nanami stared in amazement.  
Hey Londs, is this like some kind of shield or something?  
Londs replied, we have modified our sail technology to provide a measure of protection against air-based attack. This shield will withstand several direct hits from one of their bombs.  
That makes me feel so much better. Nanami considered this for a minute. There was plenty of light getting through the shield to illuminate the busy deck, where Nanami also took in the rather large number of guns that had been installed since her last royal cruise, but aside from a few shadows that crossed it the shield was totally opaque. She looked up again, and gave voice to a concern that immediately crossed her mind. Wait a minute; how am I supposed to see out of this thing if we get attacked?  
Londs pointed upward, to a crow's nest situated just below the notch where the main sail was attatched to it's mast. You will direct our defensive fire from that position. It is well protected, should the Phantom Tribe realize that we can see them.  
That makes me feel so much better, Nanami repeated with bitter amusement. Should the procession fall under attack it's defense rested soley on her shoulders, as if the safety of the royal family weren't enough to worry about. She sat down on the deck and slumped over.  
Londs could taste her weariness from a distance, but he made himself smile as he spoke to her. Do not worry. Come, I must show you how to use the sighting equipment.  
Nanami looked up at him, and in a valliant effort to match Londs's jovial attitude, forced a smile onto her own lips.  
_Allright girl,_ she told herself sternly, _we're on our way. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to our old life. Or at least, the one we have here._  
Just as Nanami was walking past the gangplank that moored the cruiser to the palace gallery, she noticed another passenger boarding.  
Hey, Afura! I didn't know you were coming too!  
Afura stepped onto the deck of the cruiser lightly, and smiled at the porter who gathered up her single bag. Yes, I can sense disturbances in the wind currents from miles away, and if anything in the air tries to stop us, well, they'll be in for a surprise.  
Nanami ran straight up to Afura, and the zeal with which she embraced the priestess nearly caused Afura's face to turn blue.  
Oh thank goodness! I can't tell you how relieved I am that someone else is here to help! Thank you so much!  
Afura returned the hug, and upon regaining her breath, said No problem. It's the least I can do for the royal family, not to mention a good friend.  
said Nanami, hey, does John know you're coming?  
At this Afura unexpectedly blushed, and began fidgiting with her hands. Uh, yeah, we said goodbye.  
Nanami's eyes rolled towards the heavens. Oh my gosh, you two are so _timid!_ Why don't you just admit you've got the hots for each other and get it over with?  
We're not, I mean, we are, but... Afura fumed, then sputtered. Oh Nanami, you're right. I always thought I'd be flying solo, but things are far more complicated now.  
Nanami put an arm around Afura's shoulders and led her towards the below decks hatch. It's okay. Hey, we've got a little time before they're ready to get this boat off the ground. How's about we have a little heart to heart?  
Afura smiled. That would be nice.  
The two women crossed the wooden deck and went below, and after another thirty minutes of hurried provisioning and systems checks, HMS _Fatora the Un-Merciful_ floated away from her moorings and into the sapphire sky.  
  


****  
  


The task of cristening the new-build cruisers of the Royal Rostarian Air Corps had fallen to Fatora, since Rune's duties as head of state in wartime left her little time for such trifles.  
So it was that the cruisers HMS _Fatora's Revenge_, _Royal Ire_, and _Alielle's Fury_ accompanied the _Un-Merciful_ on her mission, and the escort vessels HMS _Floristica_,_ Ancient's Rage_, _Mystic_, _Holy Flame,_ and, quite to the dislike of both the poor victims, _Sir Londs the Bold_ and _Nanami the Glorious_.  
So it was also that immediately after the last of the escorts had left the ground, a Phantom Tribe spycraft hovered in the clouds for a few moments, then came hard about and returned to the Bugrom Hive to make it's report.  
  
Oh, such easy targets! Didn't they learn anything from the last time I obliterated them? Jinnai's amusement had produced a lazy smirk of confidence, and he wore it like a crown. You have the means, of course?  
The Phantom pilot nodded noncomittantly. My squadron can deal with them easily enough. Do you want prisoners?  
No, I only want wreckage! WHA UAH HA HA HA HA UHA HA HA HA WAH HA HA!  
  
This time, the heat was easier to deal with. For starters, they weren't crossing the Desert of Bleached White Bones in a bid to get to the hottest and most miserable city, in Fatora's considered opinion, in all of El Hazard. Instead, they cut across the endless rolling hills and fields of the grasslands that supplied much of the Kingdom's produce and timber, and the idyllic scenery of vast well-kept farmland and grazing livestock was interrupted only by trees.  
It was all very peaceful, but Nanami was on guard. Long stretches of blissful quiet, in her experience, were often broken up by disasters. For now, though, the sun shone brilliantly over the lands before her, and from her post in the lookout nest Nanami could actually recline a little and watch the clouds roll by.  
Just as she managed a contented sigh, something in those clouds caught her eye. It was difficult to pinpoint, because it was something so very familiar. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that it shouldn't be there, and it was another minute before she realised with a start that what she'd seen was perfectly normal. For earth.  
  
We have the target in sight. Overflight completed. The pilot spoke into a boom mic at his chin, and the mechanical reply came through crystal clear.  
Confirm presence of royal escort.  
Acknowledged, command. Stand by. The fighter dropped abruptly and slowed to a crawl, still to far away for the targets to possibly hear, but close enough to get a good visual through the scope.  
Comfirmed, target is the royal cruiser _Un-Merciful_. Request permission to proceed.  
Stand by.  
The pilot had managed to keep any hint of annoyance out of his voice. This was the first time in centuries that the Phantom Tribe had dared bring it's tiny yet powerful military above ground, and despite their relative lack of recent experience, the entire Military Authority had displayed a great eagerness to be about the task of destroying the Roshtarian's amusing attempt at arming themselves. The command staff was still working out the kinks in a system which hadn't seen use in over 600 years, so some delays were to be expected.  
You have permission. Repeat, you have permission to eliminate the target.  
The pilot's mouth twitched upward, and he began passing orders to the other fighters in his wing.  
  
Londs was in an understandable, if infuriating state of confusion. What do you mean,   
Like the lines in the sky that jets leave, that look like little white stitches! Can't you see them? Nanami was pointing straight up.  
Londs squinted into the bright blue sky, then shook his head. I cannot. Perhaps they are hiding this trail from us. Can you tell how far away they are?  
Nanami looked up again, then said No, I can't. Afura?  
The priestess closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate with great effort. Then, suddenly, she smiled. Yes, I can feel them. There seem to be about a dozen, they're, wait, how are they going so fast?  
They're using engines like John and Makoto's, only much more powerful. There's no way we can outrun them, Nanami stated stoically.  
Afura's smile became a deadly grin of anticipation, the kind of look a warrior gets before plunging headlong into another of the battles that are his life's blood.  
Well then, I guess we'll just have to fight them, she said, as she gathered the winds about her to prepare for the assault.  
  


****  
  


Both men were aware that they hadn't moved for a good four or five minutes, and both were aware that after years of living in the world of endless adventures they had damned well better be used to encountering things of a fantastical nature.  
It was still quite a shock, though. Makoto began to step forward into the hallway, but Fujisawa laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.  
Wait a minute, Makoto. How do you know it's safe?  
A few seconds passed before Makoto responded. I can't explain it, sensei. I still don't know just how my ability works, but I can actually feel something like a signal running beneath the floors here. It's more powerful than anything I've ever felt before, even more powerful than the Eye of God.  
Fujisawa stared into the corridor as though he wished to see what Makoto had. Hang on a second, he said, then went back to the camp site. It was the work of but a moment to gather their meager posessions together, then he and Makoto set off into the hallway, side by side.  
A faint humming sound, like an electrical generator, was eminating from the far end of the hallway, and it was towards this sound that the two made their way. No particle of dust nor speck of dirt had gathered on the cold steel floor, and the air they breathed reamined cool and fresh, as though they were walking through a forest on a cool autumn day.  
As they approached the end of the hallway, a computer interface terminal loomed against the wall. A blue orb was set just below a black glass pane, and as soon as Makoto touched his hand to the orb both objects came to life instantly, and he closed his eyes.  
It's, a computer, Makoto said distantly, his mind in two places at once, some sort of core system that the ancients used. It's, wait a second...  
Red figures began to blink across the screen, and surges of current coarsed over Makoto's body.  
It's trying to keep me out, it says... Makoto spoke through clenched teeth, but just as Fujisawa moved to pull him away, the sparks and red lights ceased. Instead, innumerable figures, much smaller and in green, began to flow over the screen like a wave. Makoto opened his eyes again, but did not speak.  
What is it, Makoto? asked Fujisawa.  
I don't believe it. The computer, it's alive, somehow.  
  
Makoto nodded slightly, eyes transfixed upon the screen. The security program, it was automated. But Ira says that it's been more than three thousand years since someone has spoken to it, so it let me in.  
  
That's it's name. It says that it was used by the ancients to control their palaces, their communications and security, until it became self-aware. Ira learned what consciousness is, so the ancients removed it from such meanial work and gave it a mainframe and memories to work from. Ira learned so fast that soon, it was devising new scientific theories that advanced their culture far beyond what anyone had ever hoped for. It says that, oh my God.  
Fujisawa seemed to be stuck between awe and impatience. What, Makoto? What does it say?  
Makoto gulped. It says, Ira says, that it designed Ifurita...  
Fujisawa's jaw dropped. But Makoto hadn't finished, and his voice shook with disbelief as he removed his hand from the orb and turned to face his teacher.  
And the Eye of God.


	20. Bloody War, Bloodless Coup

::Chapter Three::  
  


They're starting to descend.  
Afura's voice rang clear amidst the gale-force winds that swept over the deck of the _Un-Merciful,_ perhaps because it was she who controlled those winds, perhaps because the nervous tension inside her required an outlet. Whatever the reason, her words were electrifying to those who could only guess at their present danger, and they sent the crew scurrying to their battle stations and Nanami to the lookout post.  
Then the first missile hit, it's shattering force spent upon the protective shield that covered the _Un-Merciful_. The cruiser rocked as though smashed by the hammer of God, but the blast from the warhead was deflected around the ship and in the end did no harm.  
A few crewmen who had regained their footing let out an exhilarated whoop, as though they had just survived a duel at twenty paces. But then the second missile came crashing in, and the third, and it seemed that the terrible pounding that the cruiser bore should have cracked it's shield like an eggshell. Power systems fluctuated madly, alarms shrieked as though the ship itself was tormented, and the screams of the few unlucky men who had been thrown overboard died away as quickly as they had begun.  
Nanami's shoulders were bruised where her harness had restrained her, but soon she was peering through the scope that her crow's nest had been outfitted with, and as she found her target her entire world narrowed into a tunnel, at the end of which a small triangular craft was the only visible object.  
Her hand touched a small pad at the base of the scope, and moments later the cruiser's defensive cannons roared out against the craft.  
  
Base, this is Predator. First strike ineffective, repeat, first strike ineffective. The Roshtarians appear to be using some sort of modified sail technology as a barrier. Their strength is-  
The pilot's report was cut short as his warning klaxon blared, and the first of the cruiser's shells began to detonate around him. Their firing was remarkably accurate, and it was a few seconds before the pilot could regain his cool composure.  
I am taking fire, base. Enemy has targeted my craft, am abandoning missile strike. Wing will continue engagement at high speed with energy fire.  
The pilot brought his strike craft around in a wide sweep, then abandoned all pretense of subtlety. Three more sleek fighters followed him into a steep dive, and the firing controls were switched from long-range to short-range engagement mode. The pilot cracked the corner of his pressed lips in an evil grin, and waited until his computer blinked an obedient on his laser mounts.  
  
No hits, Nanami said as calmly as she could, but we came close. They're speeding up, though, and coming back around for another pass. It's going to be much harder to hit them this time.  
Londs nodded, and shouted across the deck, Bring the escorts around in front of us, but clear of our guns. Bring the _Ire_ and _Fury_ up to our flanks, and place the _Revenge_ behind us. Priestess Afura, what do you see?  
Such fragile craft, Afura whispered almost to herself, so dependent upon the wind for support. All it would take is a tiny disturbance in the wrong place...  
The cruiser was hit again suddenly, and to everyone's horror the sails that kept their vessel afloat seemed to melt away as an angry red beam of fearsome power pierced them and smashed into the deck.  
  
Two enemy craft destroyed, ten seconds to overflight. Prepare to fire again. There was a flame now in the pilot's voice, and he shed his earlier calm professionalism as his desire for vengeance was given life at last. They approached their targets from straight ahead, skimming the tops for the trees that surrounded them. He rode the wings of his craft like a hawk swooping down upon his prey, and his eyes flashed as he squeezed the firing trigger once more.  
  
_HMS Floristica_ and _Ancient's Rage_ had been reduced to flaming wrecks in an instant, and the _Un-Merciful_ had been damaged on her port quarter. The sail on the bow of the cruiser was pulsating like the face of a pond disturbed by a thrown stone, but by some miracle it stabilized and continued to provide lift.  
Mere seconds later, though, another storm front of focused laser energy assailed them, two more escorts were blown out of the sky, and the _Un-Merciful _staggered again as her heavy hull plating was shattered near the forward support for the shield ring. The shield died immediately, and jagged splinters of armor swept the deck like grapeshot. Many crewmen were killed, still more were injured, and one fist-sized piece of metal ricoched off the deck and slammed into Sir Londs' shin.  
He fell, screaming in agony, and his voice added itself to the chorus of pain and fear that seemed a living thing upon the deck of the cruiser. And yet Nanami lived, and a few crews remained to fire the guns, so that when she sighted ahead of the flotilla and pressed her hand to the panel, the sound of cannons roared out again in defiance.  
Even as the shells exploded, an aura of white energy rose straight up from Afura as the air currents around the cruiser bent to her will. They formed four distinct pillars, the centers of which stretched outwards towards the oncoming craft like the tip of an arrow. They were approaching at horrific speed, screaming across the landscape as if to sow death with their mere presence, until they were nearly over the convoy. Then, as though they'd struck a wall of iron, they merged with Afura's pillars and each one quite simply blew up.  
  
Fatora was at Sir Londs's side as he lay writhing upon one of the makeshift cots that were scattered across the deck. After the fashion of a true naval hero, he had refused to be treated before the more severely injured of his men, so the only source of comfort he had at the moment was Fatora, which was little comfort enough.  
She'd been going on about how great and noble he'd been in the face of such danger for what seemed like hours, and the only way Londs could think to gain some peace for himself was to give her something to do.  
The men, he said to her in the whisper of a man fighting back immense pain, you must lead them on a rescue mission. We must find any survivors from the escort vessels. We must not leave them behind.  
Thus emboldened, Fatora left to take charge. On her way she passed Nanami, who was coming to check on Londs herself, and Fatora grabbed her in a fierce embrace. Nanami opened her mouth to make one of the many curt rebukes to Fatora's advances that she had practised over the years, but then she realized it wasn't necessary. This one time, there was nothing sexual about it; Fatora was simply expressing with contact what she could not with words.  
They each allowed the violent storm of their feelings to swell together, the pain and wretched horror of combat, the thrill of victory and the dark, uncertain future to which they were all bound. Only for a few moments, for such storms are as brief as they are furious, and then they parted.  
Nanami made her way to Londs, and crouched down next to his cot like a cat, with her hands upon the wooden frame and her eyes upon Londs.  
You're going to be okay, right?  
An amused grunt in response. Yes, I will live. I must thank you, Nanami.  
She blinked. Why? What did I do? We never even hit them.  
Londs said, but it is because of you that we could fight back. That is important to the kingdom right now.  
she said tenderly, you old fool. That's so stupid. She leaned across the cot and embraced him. _This technology gap is still just a bit beyond you, isn't it?_ she thought. _Well, if it gives him a reason to get off this cot, I guess I can play along for a while._  
Nanami stood back up and turned around just in time to catch site of Afura. Afura ran over to her and said something about going to look for survivors, then took off into the air before Nanami could make any reply. The medics and repair crews seemed to have everything in hand, so she returned to her crow's nest to make sure that there wasn't a follow up attack on the way.  
  


****  
  


Makoto stepped away from the interface, and the green cascade ceased. Replacing it was a map, lavishly decorated in a language that no one had spoken for three thousand years. A live video picture of Makoto and Fujisawa appeared in a small square, connected by a thin green line to a blinking dot on the map.  
said Fujisawa, and Makoto nodded in mute agreement.  
They were standing in a part of an impossibly vast network of rooms and byways and great caverns the size of a small city, all connected by an anthill-like maze of hallways identical to this one. Makoto began to turn around, and as his gaze swept over the wall to his right a crack appeared, as though summoned by his thoughts, that ran from the top to the bottom of the hall. The crack became a door that opened into a large, partially lit area that looked for all the world like a kitchen, just as clean and unnaturally spotless as the hall.  
I guess this was some kind of emergency exit, Makoto rasped, then turned his attention back to the map. If this is accurate, we're on the top floor of something the size of ten skyscrapers! This complex must go on for thousands of feet below us!  
I wonder how much of it's still there, Fujisawa pondered.  
I don't know, Makoto said, and he placed his hand upon the orb again. It seems like, no, there's only a few dozen stories left. It looks like the rest of it was destroyed by some sort of freak magma flow or earthquake, it's hard to tell. Sensei, it looks, I think this is one of the ancient's main research facilities.  
Fujisawa sauntered into the kitchen. Well, I guess we'd better check it out then, huh kid?  
Makoto removed his hand, and let his gaze linger on the map as he followed his teacher. Yeah, you're right.  
Neither man noticed, as they began their exploration, that the door they had entered from the cave was closing slowly behind them.  
  


****  
  


Jinnai's upper lip folded back on itself as his teeth flashed in hatred. The strategic map in front of him was familiar enough, but his fuming was based less on the particular setback of the Phantom Tribe's failure than what it represented in the big picture. The balance of power between the Bugrom and Roshtaria was intricate and confusing, but above all, it now appeared even.  
Damn it! Damn damn damn, they've countered my every move, and every single time I'm close to scoring a victory those _hideous_ evil wicked stupid Harpies snatch it away from me! Uaaagh! There has to be a way to stop them once and for all. We just have to find it. We need time, a way to occupy their attention while I plan my master stroke, I... Wait! Diva!  
Jinnai spun around to address the queen, but her dais was vacant. Huh? Hey Groucho, where'd Diva go?  
  
  
  
In keeping with the dictum of stealth and concealment, there was no real visible sign of the massive Bugrom hives above ground. Rather than build up, they had dug down, until the current hive extended almost as far below the earth as the old one had risen above it. It was wild territory; sandstone bluffs and rolling desert scrub painted a landscape as barren as any Diva had seen, and the lingering rays of the sun tossed brilliant hues and sinister shadows across it as though all creation was merely there for the light to play hide and seek with.  
For all this beauty Diva was really rather depressed at the moment. In her mind was the permanent chaos of thousands of Bugrom voices, but on this plain in the growing darkness there was a sort of quiet that had been missing from her life for too long a time. So many of her children were worried, so many wary of being destroyed and defeated again that she found it difficult to bring into focus the line between her own thoughts and feelings and those of her brood.  
This world must be made safe again, she told herself, safe for her children to live without the fear of subjugation. Yet the price was so great that there may not be much of the Bugrom left if they won, and perhaps none at all if they lost. The victory that had seemed so certain in the last war was now hanging by a spider's thread, and...  
The sound of nervous footsteps coming up behind her broke the spell of her thoughts, and she turned her head lazily to look back at Jinnai. She noted the slight hunch of his shoulders, the eyes that still blazed with fury but were now tempered with loss and bitter experience, and she decided that he'd actually managed to grow up a bit these past years. Jinnai walked to stand beside her and, placing his hands on his hips, glanced about the world.  
You're worried, aren't you. He wasn't asking.  
Diva returned her eyes to the sunset and measured out a breath. We are.  
We can still win this war. I underestimated our enemies, but that won't happen again. Besides, I'm almost ready to deal a crippling blow to the Alliance, one that will change the balance of power forever.  
  
What's wrong with you, Diva? Jinnai snapped. One piercing ray of yellow light cut between them, bathing Jinnai's torso in gold, and frustration twisted his features. After the first war ended, you were ready to do whatever it took to conquer El Hazard! Even after so many of our soldiers had died we started over again. And now that our army is once again poised to crush our foes you're getting cold feet!  
I rule a _civilization_, not an _army_. Each word Diva spoke was perfectly, mechanically enunciated, and she flayed him with her gaze. I did not lead my children to salvation merely to throw them back upon the fire. Roshtaria will discover our home, and they will use the Eye of God to send us to ruin again, and the only result of our efforts will be more dead than you could bear to count.  
Jinnai's eyes were wide, but he only paused a heartbeat before replying with his trademark smirk, Well you see, I've been working on that, and after tomorrow, we shouldn't have to worry about the Eye of God at all.  
Diva's manner changed from scathing to curious. What, you mean you plan to destroy it?  
No, not quite, my dear. But I do have a very _special_ package being prepared for delivery right to Floristica's front door. Jinnai's smirk bent itself into a wicked grin as the last of the day's light disappeared over the distant mountains, and his triumphant laughter vaulted into the evening.  
  


****  
  


You look much better.  
John spun around in his seat at the sound of Afura's voice, and he dropped the book he'd been browsing. He crossed the floor of his small palace apartment in a few quick strides and gathered up the priestess in a warm embrace.  
I knew you'd make it back all right, he said in husky tones, now don't ever do that again.  
Afura chuckled weakly. I think this kind of thing is in my job description somewhere. She began to tighten her hold, but just as she did John was racked by a coughing fit and she pulled away quickly. John bent over, the noise of his lungs dry and rattling, and Afura rushed to set a chair behind him and eased him into it.  
She found a chair for herself and sat down in front of him, her concern expressing itself through wringing hands and a worried frown. John finished coughing, then took two cautious breaths before he looked up at Afura again.  
Yeah, the doctor says it'll be another week before I'm allowed to leave the palace. The medicine isn't too bad, though. He smiled with as much reassurance as he could muster.  
And have you kept practicing? Afura asked.  
John glanced, not quite resentfully, at the lamp that sat on his desk.  
Afura followed his line of sight, then gasped. What? Why, how can you just leave it sitting out like that? Don't you understand what this lamp means to us? How important it is? She went to the desk and, as though it would crumble into dust if she mishandled it, placed the lamp on it's carved wooden stand.  
It's not like that! I respect your religion, or whatever, I really do. But I wasn't born to this life. All I had planned for my life was a summer spent working on my car, then maybe college, I don't know. I was never supposed to be here, Afura, working magic lamps and fighting Phantoms and all this crap. Another fit of coughing interrupted his speech, and Afura watched him as a feeling of sad helplessness welled up inside her being. John's failure had hurt him in a place the medicines couldn't reach, and Afura found herself wanting, so much it surprised her, to heal him.  
She glided back to him, pulled her chair up closer, and locked on his eyes. I'm sorry. The words came out so softly it was almost startling. I wish I could send you back myself. But you've already done so much good here, and until Makoto figures out how to get you all back home, I hope you'll keep fighting with us. We still need you here.  
John stared into her eyes, those same strange, beautiful eyes that had greeted him the first day of this mishap adventure. The same sincerity was there, but there was something else, too. Affection. One clear stray thought floated through his mind. _If I was really slick, I'd kiss her._ But was he so sure that she wanted him to? No, of course not. This wasn't the right time, and that wasn't what she was offering. But the moment was stretching on too long for comfort, so he cleared his throat and took as deep a breath as he dared.  
Of course. You're right. If I don't do everything I can to win this war, then I might never make it home. As soon as the doctors let me leave, I'll gladly join you on the field. As her smile lit in response to his words in his mind was another thought, more subtle than the last, but more worrisome. _Would I want to go back without her?  
_  


****  
  


Your attack failed.  
Lives have been lost.  
Thrown away.  
  
Shame, stubborn pride, defiance, and exasperation all warred within Nahato, vying to lash out at the Council. It had been _their_ weakness, _their_ timidity that had exposed the air wing to the priestesses' attack. But alienating them at this point would accomplish nothing, and would brand him as a Failure for the rest of his days. He forced his mind to calm itself before responding.  
There is only one Priestess of the Winds, and there are hundreds of other ways in which we can strike the Alliance. Unless you believe her to be a goddess, she cannot possibly be in all places at once. If we attack several objectives simultaneously we _will_ succeed.  
A chorus of ancient tones replied. But we cannot fight the Temple and win.  
Roshtaria still has the Eye.  
Not for long, Nahato said. The chorus paused, and he allowed the silence to linger, savoring their surprise.  
You would destroy the Eye? The one chance we would have to return to our dimension?  
Nahato chortled. Of course not. Every day our scientists bring us closer to understanding how it works. But the Bugrom leader is preparing another offensive, and he means to cripple the Alliance by it. I simply did what I could to, facilitate, his plans.  
More silence. Then, This is most disturbing. To undertake such action without our approval...  
I did what was necessary! Nahato's fury had overcome him, too hot to reign back, and even as he screamed at them he knew that his life and the future of his people were awaiting the outcome of this meeting. We finally have the strength to crush Roshtaria and take back what is rightfully ours, to avenge the deaths and indignities of a hundred generations, and you waste away the time _worrying_ about our survival! It has become quite clear that this Council no longer has the will to fight this war, and if you won't do it, _I_ will!  
Nahato turned to leave the chamber. Behind him one of the Council shouted, Stop him! Do not let him leave! A sentry stepped out of the shadows into Nahato's path and held the tip of his staff to Nahato's throat. Nahato paused, then stepped forward and allowed the staff to dig in. His eyes locked on the sentry's, and he saw the man's hesitation. Nahato seized on it.  
The scientists are behind me. The warriors are behind me. Let us end this bickering and _act_ to save our people. The steel of his voice seemed to mesmerize the sentry, and the man looked to the Council one last time.  
Kill him now! they pleaded, but in the face of the sentry they could see that they had already lost. The staff drew away from Nahato, both men walked out of the chamber, and as the rest of the sentries emerged from the shadows to follow them, the Council watched as their power disappeared as well.  
  


****  
  


Ready, Groucho?  
The brutish purple bug garbled an affirmative, and gave Jinnai what passed for a Thumb's Up. All around him a sea of massive armored bugs waited with eerie patience, and on the periphery of the underground hall were waves of the smaller blue bugs.  
Excellent. You're sure the package will be there on time? Jinnai turned to look at the person he'd addressed, and a smile broke across the young man's pale blue face.  
Of course it will. The transport left hours ago.  
Well, all right then. Jinnai concentrated on projecting his usual majestic confidence, but there was something unsettling about Nahato. He seemed much more focused somehow, and a tiny alarm bell was ringing in the back of Jinnai's suspicious mind. But that could wait for now.  
As tradition decreed, Jinnai had armored up for the battle, and he pointed his finger straight ahead as he had countless times before.  
Troops, ADVANCE!


End file.
